Heroic Change
by ReconstructWriter
Summary: Sequel to Heroic Build. Danny Phantom has been revealed as Danny Fenton and this didn't land him in a lab, but now he must face a reality where everyone from his teachers to Valerie Gray knows his secret. Meanwhile Vlad's getting desperate and the GIW aren't about to give up just because of a single jury's verdict.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : Here's the sequel to Heroic Build! I really wanted to continue that story because I loved what it grew into—and what you guys made it grow into. There was also so much I didn't get to do in that story that I wanted to and the next thing I knew I had another story.

Enjoy!

 **Exclusive**

"And now the one and only superhero of the world: Danny Phantom!" Lance Thunder introduced as the half-ghost hero phased through the studio's ceiling. Audience and staff alike erupted with wild cheering, drowning out further speech long enough for Danny to get his nerves under control.

"And may I say this is an honor Mr. Phantom? Or is it Mr. Fenton now?"

"It's Danny," he shook Mr. Thunder's hand and hoped it wasn't as sweaty and shaky as he felt. "And I'm not the only superhero out there."

"Danny then. Before we get into this, you are of course free to decline answering any questions and we'll move on to another. Now about your last statement there, who else would you consider a superhero?"

"A lot of people are heroes," Danny said, "But if you mean superhero as someone using their superpowers to protect and rescue people I would have to say the Red Huntress." After her encounter with his 'cousin' she had even helped him as Phantom rescue ghosts from some ecologists. He smiled broadly.

"Speaking of Red Huntress there have been rumors about the two of you," Mr. Thunder began suggestively.

Danny rolled his eyes. "She started out believing, like ghost hunters usually do, that all ghosts are evil, putrid slime balls of life-ruining horror." Rubbing the back of his hair nervously he added, "And I might have made the world's worst first impression on her and given her every reason to hunt me." His hand fell. "Hard for either of us to shake hands and let bygones be bygones after that."

"World's worst first impression?" Mr. Thunder asked.

"Not my story to tell. Hopefully having my secret exposed will help rather than hurt any future alliances. Any other questions you want to ask about Red Huntress should be asked in an interview with her."

"Do you know her secret identity?"

"Ask her," Danny said blandly, but his glare was sharp with warning.

"Right, okay. Moving onto a question we're all curious about given recent events: You were declared 'Not Guilty' in the courtroom? What do you have to say about that?"

"Only this." He looked straight into the camera. "Thank you."

"Did you really think the justice system would convict you and hand you over to the GIW?"

"Maybe? I am half-ghost and the same government that brought us the Guys in White also runs our justice system. I prepared for it just in case."

"Prepared?"

"Wrote out my will. Said my goodbyes. At least others would be there to help protect Amity Park."

Lance Thunder was only silent for a moment; dead air made for dead ratings. "Well I for one am grateful those measures were unnecessary." He jumped to a cheerier topic. "Now a question I'm certain everyone is dying to know: how did you get your powers?"

Danny's expression fell. "I died," he admitted softly, to the disbelief of the viewers.

"What? But…but you're still…alive. Right?" The interviewer suddenly looked distinctly uneasy.

"People _can_ technically die and come back. Your heart can start again after stopping. Not too long ago one of your co-workers, Miss Morrison, reported on a man who died twice in one night and he's walking around now…well, sitting around now." Danny shrugged, "It happens. It happened to me."

"Mr. Garcia didn't get superpowers."

"He wasn't exposed to lethal levels of ectoplasm, or one of my parent's inventions."

"Do you mean that your own parents built the device that killed you?" Mr. Thunder asked dramatically.

The look Danny gave him would have frozen liquid nitrogen solid. Lance suddenly found the couch fascinating, but instead of instant, scandal-stirring denial, the superhero whispered, "For the longest time I thought that. Mom and dad built it. Always thought one of them must have put a button in the wrong place or connected a few wires the wrong way…" A flashback seized him: electricity like a supernova, ectoplasm like a black hole, every cell caught in a war between the two, agony as though he was being ripped apart.

Molecule by molecule.

Instead they'd brought him together. "Only later I learned it was sabotage. Someone wanted revenge on my parents, wanted their invention to fail in hopes that they'd 'accidentally' get killed. They thought it would be," His voice turned sarcastic, "Delicious irony. But mom and dad weren't the first ones to look over the invention. I was." The ghostly hero smirked, "Ended up becoming his worst enemy, constantly messing up every other plot he had."

"Wow? So we have this mysterious enemy of the Fenton family to thank for you becoming a superhero? Now that's ironic."

"No, he just put the trap in place. I was the one who screwed it up; I was the one who decided _not_ to follow his example of using my powers for evil. And he's done everything he can to keep me from being a superhero. He hates it."

"Why did you decide to become a superhero anyway? You were fourteen, shouldn't you have been sneaking into the girl's locker room instead of…risking your life to protect people."

"Sneaking into locker rooms would be abusing my powers. How would you like a gay ghost sneaking into your changing room?"

Danny would be proud that, as badly as he reacted when Sam used that example, everyone else's reaction was worse. "There aren't any gay ghosts…are there?" The interviewer looked three seconds and a 'boo' away from curling in on himself.

"Yes, but only locker room peaking one is in the ghost zone now. Point is abusing power is wrong and always sucks when you're on the other side of the whole power abuse equation."

Lance Thunder smiled, "Valiant defense of locker rooms privacy aside," the audience chuckled, "Why superheroing? Did you read one too many comic books?"

"Should have read more," Danny grumbled. "And I guess it started when the Lunch Lady ghost kidnapped one of my best friends, or when those ectopi broke into my parents lab and tried to attack everyone. I couldn't just stand back and watch people get hurt. I had to help them. It just went from there until Pariah Dark." His eyes flashed a brighter green, "That's when I realized I was willing to _die_ to save people."

"Well it sounds like you're a very upstanding young man—in addition to a parent's worst nightmare." Lance Thunder shuddered exaggeratedly, "Even imagining my little brother doing half the things you're doing is enough to keep me up."

"If I don't who will?" Danny asked honestly, "Lots of ghosts can't be stopped even by the best ghost hunters with the best technology and there's no a line of ghosts waiting to take my place as the ghost zone's most aggravating."

"There are still many people who are justifiably uncomfortable with someone so young taking on such a burden."

"To save lives," Danny pointed out. With more maturity in his voice, he added, "I am no child of Omelas."

Lance frowned, what was Omelas? Oh yes…that story. "Moving on. You have, as Phantom, gone on the record and explained several less-than-heroic incidents that led to your…less than sterling reputation at first."

"Is there a question in that?"

"You have been framed; shot at, jailed and nearly died multiple times. And only until you risked your life in single combat with the most powerful, evil ghost in the entire infinite realms did the majority of people begin _not_ seeing you as scum of the earth. Meanwhile you had to give up your education, access to a paying job, so much of your free time…if those scars are any indication your pound of flesh too. And on top of all that you were hunted down by hundreds of hunters to be vivisected—including your own parents."

"My parents didn't know." Danny interrupted, "And they're kicking themselves over every second they aimed a weapon at me. They thought they were doing the right thing, just like every other ghost hunter. Anyway I didn't take it too personally," he cracked a smile. "Always joked that they missed me but their aim was getting better."

Weak chuckling rippled through the audience.

"Do you regret becoming a superhero?"

"I've had a lot of regrets over the years," his eyes looked to the past. "People who died despite…everything. Times I failed. The Walker invasion. All the danger my friends and family have gone through. All the times I hadn't told my parents." The destruction his evil future self had done. Silence settled for a moment until Danny shook himself out of his funk. "But saving people…it's _worth_ every regret. Besides what kind of person would I be to ignore people who would _die_ without my help?"

"Well said. Speaking of ghost hunters, we've heard a lot from ectologists about ghosts, but what do you think of ghosts?"

"People," Danny said immediately. "People who you can't just divide into 'good' and 'bad' any more or less than anyone else alive."

"What about the current popular theory among ectologists that something inherent in the…err…ghost-making process makes them…you…evil?"

"You mean the 'theory' that dying makes people evil," Danny rolled his eyes. "You realize if ectologists proved ghosts are people their experiments would be condemned faster than they could say boo. You can't just vivisect a human or even rip a rat apart molecule by molecule but ghosts…" Forcing himself to look at Lance, at the camera, at the audience, he continued "…you can do whatever you want with. So they're motivated to prove ghosts are evil and sub-sentient."

"Right," Mr. Thunder said uncomfortably.

"You know my friends and I researched Penelope when she was alive. She was responsible for driving at least one student at Casper High to suicide—and probably several others—back when she was alive. As a ghost, she feeds off misery and still drives teens to suicide. Death has changed her exactly zilch."

"There was also this time when I messed with the timeline to prevent the death of the person who would become Vlad Plasmius. I thought by doing so I could 'fix' everything he'd done—including when he infected my friends with an incurable, fatal disease."

"Woah? And you still saved him? You really are a saint."

"Pff, yeah right. I helped him to stop him. Anyway after messing around with time I jumped back into an alternate present where the still-living Plasmius not only didn't do any of his ghostly crimes, but got everything he ever wanted: the woman he loved, wealth, success, power and life."

"…And he was still the same manipulative, creepy, selfish bastard he's always been. Twenty years of living made no difference." Danny shook his head. "And…I hadn't known it until going back to the present but someone else died in the same accident that killed him."

"And the person who died in Plasmius's place?"

"My dad," Danny whispered softly.

"Oh god! Jack Fenton was a ghost?"

"Actually he wasn't a bad ghost." Danny smiled a little fondly, "Clumsy, just like he is in life, but had his heart in the right place, just like now. He tried to use his powers for good too." Looking past the window he continued. "Dad was lonely though. Didn't have the chance to make a family because he died first. No wife, no kids," he stared straight at Lance, "So in that way he was different but not because ghosts are innately evil or psychotic."

"I suppose that would be bad news for you if they were," Lance teased.

Two words echoed through his head, spoken from a fanged mouth and Danny shuddered. "The worst news." He shook his head, "For me and everyone else."

"But dead or not we're all people. Box Ghost may be annoying to everyone, but he risked his afterlife against Pariah's armies. Poindextar was driven to suicide by bullies and now he makes sure no one else gets bullied like he was. Spectra gets her kicks making children miserable but even she believes in equality. The Wisconsin Ghost has tried to murder people, but still grieved when…his son…died. You can't just box people, ghosts or humans, into categories of good or evil."

"So you think ghosts should have equal rights as humans?"

"If that's not too much trouble," Danny replied sardonically.

"You've still got rights," Lance pointed out. "The jury saw to that."

"Yes. For me. When it really counted. The justice system worked but do you really think the GIW and anti-ecto politicians will let that decision stand? Besides, no one should need to be a _saint_ just to _earn_ the _privilege_ of not being hunted down and tortured and destroyed."

Lance winced, "Harsh but understandable and I would agree, though many people would argue against the ghosts who routinely cause property damage, kidnap or attempt to murder people."

"And that is why everyone needs to be given basic rights and go through a fair justice system like any other accused and either declared innocent, reformed or imprisoned."

"But we have a bit of a problem with that; our jail cells can't hold a ghost," Lance pointed out. "And what police officer could arrest a ghost?"

Danny smirked, "A ghostly cop and ghostly jails can hold ghosts. And that's only one practical reason for needing equality. Now I believe our time is almost up."

"One more question before we leave off," Lance announced: "Are you single?" Danny gave him a disbelieving look and the interviewer held up his hands. "There are a lot of people who want to know."

"I'm going to regret answering that, but yes. Sam and I decided being friends was better after about eight months in."

"I'm certain there are millions of grateful viewers ecstatic to hear that. Thank you for your time. Danny Phantom everyone!"

 **A/N** : Yes I broke Sam and Danny up, not because I hate the pairing. Romance is not something I want to focus on in this story, something I'm lousy at writing and I find it unlikely that two people who hooked up at 15/16 stayed together for years. Even eight months is far longer than the norm. Maybe they'll get back together, maybe Danny will hook up with someone else but they're still good friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for your inspiring and kind reviews. You bring out the best in me! Now for something else I've been dying to do. Enjoy!

 **Inclusive**

How many times had Danny raised a hand to offer some paltry excuse to leave and save the day, William Lancer thought, raising his own hand to knock on Fentonworks door. Inevitably those breaks lasted far longer than it took to empty a bladder or run an errand. A few days before The Revelation the same raised hand had happened. William had just finished grading Mr. Fenton's hastily hand-written paragraph that constituted the three page minimum paper. His temper snapped.

"Is this truly an emergency," he had growled.

Fenton had met his eyes in a moment of utter honesty—how shocking that steely gaze had been from a habitually lazy student—"Yes."

Daniel must have been a great lover of irony, to answer so honestly. The situation had been a true emergency—hundreds of ghosts lead by a dragon invading Amity—same as every other time his student begged to be excused. William had forever bemoaned Danny's laziness, his tardiness, his skipping and sleeping in class, his barely average grades, _knowing_ his student could do better if only he tried!

Of course, saving the world probably cut into his study time.

Guilt churned like a stomachache in his heart. And he'd moaned about a lack of A's like a child whining about an unwanted test. While Danny had been out there. Alone. Risking his _life_.

Same as every other time.

The door opened without warning and he found himself face to face with his most exasperating student. Danny took in the barren, trash-strewn lawn in shrewd, swift glances. An empty crumpled coffee cup rolled off trampled grass. How odd, perhaps the interview had worked to soothe the rabid curiosity of the public. "Mr. Lancer. Is something wrong?"

"The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas! There is a great deal wrong," William found himself snapping. When Daniel subtly tensed and shifted to a martial stance he raised a hand and added more calmly, "But nothing any…superheroics…can deal with." Shaking his head the vice principal added, "I can't believe I just said that aloud."

A smirk unfurled, hiding stress lines and twisting scars rakishly, transforming Danny Fenton into an ordinary teen for a brief moment. Then the expression slid away, along with the illusion. Now that William knew the secret he was shocked that he had not known sooner. Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom, really? William wanted to beat his head against his desk for being seven kinds of an idiot. It was not merely the similarities of features or build—the impossibility of a 'half ghost' effectively kept anyone from guessing Fenton and Phantom were the same Danny.

"I should have known."

His student had made some slips over the years. Hints and clues had been dropped that _something_ unusual was going on with Danny Fenton. Days where he stumbled into class like an eighty year old man with gout in both legs. A creative piece starring a knight whose sword gave him the powers of an angel—damn he couldn't believe he missed that symbolism—fighting against a demon-figure. The desire to spend his job shadowing with rescue workers.

"You weren't supposed to know," Danny soothed.

The age.

Daniel's age hadn't come with mere passage of time and looked all the more unnatural. No gray touched his hair. No wrinkles lined his face. Yet William had the disconcerting emotion that he spoke with an equal, not a teen. Those shoulders had borne the weight of the world; those callused, scarred, battered hands had defeated ghosts and gods and saved more people than William had ever met; those eyes…

It might have been cliché to say eyes were windows to the soul. Their color could hardly signify the personality behind them. Yet looking Danny straight in the eye—not his usual habit—he saw a hint of an iron soul in that steady gaze; scarred and gashed and beaten and dented but never broken. Each blow, each wound only strengthened and hardened it like forged steel.

"Nevertheless I should have looked at you and seen trouble instead of just a troublemaker." Ironically he had spent the first part of Danny's freshman year trying to keep other students from following the "troublemaker's" example.

Which might have been for the better.

If life was a path, Danny's was an ice-slick, barely visible track twisting through war-zones among the Himalayan mountain range and Amazon jungles too thick for a mouse to crawl through. This was the man who had fought against The Ultimate Enemy, willing to lay down his life in order to protect Amity from the most powerful ghost obsessed only with destruction. This was the man who, hearing of Hurricane Katrina did not pray for people's safety but flew to the coast and guaranteed their safety by battling the very forces of nature. This was the man who had traveled the world over—two worlds really—and fought through hell itself to come back out.

"Still not your fault; take it from the king of guilt-piling, it's something better shared. Well come on in, let's see if I can't help somehow. Can I get you anything?" he pulled the door aside.

"Tea would be good," William said, stepping into Fentonworks.

Within moments the tea was made and William watched with wide eyes as Danny's hand glowed blue and put out the rising steam easily as a candle flame. Just days ago Phantom had turned Amity into a winter wonderland without comment but seeing his student cool a cup awed him. "So, what is the problem?" Suspicion tainted his features, "And why come to a superhero if it can't be solved by superheroics?"

William's words were fondly exasperated, "Because sometimes the superhero needs help. Casper High has an inclusion problem. We have programs to address the special needs of the autistic, the blind, the deaf, the handicapped among others but none to address the special needs of a superhero."

Danny actually laughed, "I don't need anything like that. Promise. I held back in school on purpose anyway."

"On purpose," The phrase, in such a ludicrous context, sounded foreign. Danny might have well been speaking some ghostly language. "Why?" But the answer came to him a moment after the question left. Because otherwise he would have exposed his secret the second he'd handed in that assignment on the moment that most changed his life. William had no doubt that life-changing moment was…dying, and gaining his powers.

As though reading his mind, Danny answered, "Actually it was when I first stood up against a ghost to protect others. When I first decided to become a superhero. The powers alone, even that wasn't as life-changing. And obviously I can't keep a secret identity writing about that or my worst fears or the song that best describes me."

"Can you read minds?" William asked curiously.

"Hah, no. I've just gotten better at guessing what other people are thinking. It helps when you're trying to keep everyone else from guessing you moonlight as a superhero." His smile slid away and he looked to his tea. "Secrets…they build up, overtake everything. Suddenly you have to watch out for all the little things, all the little giveaways—especially when it's your freedom on the line."

"The jury pronounced you not guilty. The anti-ecto act can't touch you."

That tired stare was far too cynical for anyone in high school. "You listened to "History of Bigotry? You know better," Danny's eyes only seemed to get older. "I researched all that. Sam had the idea and put it all in order. Tucker did the power-point and found the clips but I was the one who found out exactly what normal people do to anyone considered…less than human. Maybe this jury of my peers who, even if I didn't save them personally, had friends and family saved by me, freed me. But would anyone else…?"

Green glowing eyes flashed beneath shadowed black brows. "…When I'm not all human."

"I…" William felt a sledgehammer hit his heart, plunging leaden nausea through his whole body. The trio's presentation had covered US murder and genocide of people that inspired Hitler and the Nazis. The true horrors of slavery, where whipping would have been a blessing in comparison to arranged rapes and…sport. All in full-color, graphic school-suing gory video.

No one had forgotten _that_ presentation.

But to look at humanity's worst atrocities as something that would happen to _you_ if you weren't careful enough "…but they can't…"

Another weary, pessimistic look from his most confounding student and William suddenly remembered several news reports of Phantom being successfully captured. He'd always escaped of course but the sudden realization that it had been _his student_ behind glass panels and bars—

Suddenly he lunged toward the nearest garbage can, clutching it in sweaty palms as he waited for the tea to come back up. Dear God! A child had been cuffed, had been hauled away, had been…

"…they didn't…they didn't," William lifted his head from the trashcan, beseeching his student to restore his faith in humanity. "What did they do to you?" he asked in a whisper.

"Capture and imprisonment." Danny spoke in that 'looking into memories' voice. One that sounded dead. "The whole being bred thing…well they definitely tried," Danny's hair stood on end. "Less said about that, the better. Heh…dissection, well there's been a lot of close calls."

"Dante's Inferno. I'm sorry," William whispered.

"Not your fault, just reality."

"A reality that will never happen," William added, his voice hardening. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

Danny stared him down. Of Mice and Men, where was the child who cringed from his pointed finger and an assigned detention? Admittedly that boy had been a good deal smaller and less battle-scarred than the man before him. "A reality you can't interfere with," he stated. "You can only help me with my school-work and that is _always_ going to come second to my superhero work."

William nodded with agreement. "Granted, your superhero work—and I can't believe I'm saying that either—is important, far more important than school, but doesn't mean we can't work around it."

Setting his tea aside, Danny admitted, "After I revealed myself to my parents we discussed dropping out of school."

William jerked as though struck, "But…Fahrenheit 451! Your education…your future!"

Danny's expression belonged on the ghost of a war veteran, not on a seventeen year old. "Mr. Lancer, do you remember that assignment in Sophomore year, the one designed for 'long term goal building'. We were supposed to sketch out a timeline for our future. What we were going to be doing five, ten even twenty years from now...all the way to our deaths."

William shifted uncomfortably, trying to recall if he'd seen any timelines but nothing stuck out in his mind about it. "Yes?" he prompted cautiously.

"I lied on that assignment too. Faked it. Drew a timeline that said I'd graduate high school, graduate college, earn a PhD or something and die at the age of seventy-five."

Suddenly Phantom phased through the ceiling, a piece of paper clutched in his gloved hands. For a moment, even after seeing the proof, trial and similarities, William had a flash of doubt. Then Phantom was absorbed into Danny so that his student was holding the paper.

"That's just duplication. Heh, and I'm so used to making them invisible now," Danny explained. "It's the reason why I haven't had to take quite so many 'bathroom breaks' in recent years. Here, it's my real timeline. Never could bring myself to throw it away." William accepted the offered assignment from his student.

Birth—1990, death—2004, timeline assignment—November 1st 2005, death **—** November 1st 2005?

The death line was heavy, drawn over and over again by someone unable to think past it. A question mark had been added carelessly afterwards, as though the writer held some small hope that they were mistaken. Or perhaps William's was the mistaken hope. Fifteen years. "But you've lived past fifteen years."

"And lived long enough to see two more birthdays. Damn miracle," Danny agreed. "You know I didn't write 'Happy Birthday' on that fifteenth cake. Wrote 'Still here'." A smirk. "Every birthday is a loogie in the eye of the odds. Of a thousand attempts to kill me that, by my skill and experience and power and sheer luck, failed." His voice turned sterner, "Doesn't mean I'll bet on one day more."

In a small voice, William whispered: "Why?…you didn't say anything about," he waved a hand around the eerily ordinary room, "…this on the interview."

"Well, I didn't want to make that too depressing when people were worried enough about a teenager saving their asses. And no one asked about my graduation plans."

Smiling wanly, Danny continued: "And what a bad example to say I wanted to drop out of high school." William winced, imagining the skyrocketing dropout rate at that announcement.

"Why bother with the school curriculum if you're going to die before graduation? Better to spend seven, eight hours a day studying martial arts, rescue operations, war strategy or strategy. Even public speaking or you know…real history, would be more helpful. You know, learning that keeps me alive another day."

"Real history is taught, and in more than just history class—" William justified.

"One-sided history. Most of the guys written about in history books don't become ghosts. They die old or live fulfilled lives, no obsession, nothing left undone. But slaves, the murdered, the tortured, targets of genocide, the unjustly imprisoned, they become ghosts. Come on, you think the research I did on that history presentation was from _books_?" Danny gave a slow, sardonic smile. One that made William flinch.

"You heard of the Dakota 38? I hadn't until one of them approached me with a gun in hands and a noose still around his neck. He just wanted to protect…his family. And even though he was speaking English I still couldn't understand him because I hadn't learned _anything_ about his history."

"We can't cover everythi—" William broke off that tired old excuse. "There are some things that…fall through the cracks. Things that the school board, that people or that textbook writers, would never approve of."

"I know," Danny said. "I learned about most of that stuff the hard way. That's why I argued to learn on my own where I could go my own pace and take the GED early, not have to hold back or anything. My parents argued the same way you did: but what about my future? And they didn't like my answer."

"Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas Mr. Fenton—"

"—You said that one already."

"And it bears repeating. I am shocked they allowed you to continue your heroism," The English teacher admitted. "When I found out the truth of your secret my first reaction was to utterly forbid it and you are not even my son—"

"Oh they did try," Danny said, "And their solution lasted right up until the first really nasty ghost came through and _hundreds_ of people—children, babies among them—were going to die if I didn't help." Another smirk, thin as a scar, mirthless as a blade. "I don't wreck my life for the shits and giggles."

Silence punctuated the statement until William slowly said, "You have hope for a future now though. College education…"

"Which is four more _years_ of assassinations, ghost attacks, human attacks, win-or-die fights and life-threatening disasters I have to survive just to graduate. Three if I take summer classes and as many classes during the regular semesters as possible but I have to survive the rest of this school year first. Grave odds."

Once more William's skull wished acquaintance with a hard surface.

In a softer voice Danny continued, "Now that my secret is exposed, I can't even hide and heal as Danny Fenton. People are going to be coming after me in human form as well."

"But—"

"Don't take it for granted that I will live one more day," said Danny. "Now what would you advise me to do?"

William opened his mouth and closed it and said nothing.

"The best way for me to ensure my future is to practice the skills that will enable me to survive."

Speaking around the leaden lump in his throat, William forced every word from his mouth, "That…can be accommodated," he admitted. "Gym class, you can invite your martial arts teacher…to help. Self-study history projects. Public speaking is a part of English class—you did incredibly well with your interview."

"I practiced. And that wasn't my first interview."

Clearing his throat, Lancer continued, "I…I can help…a little. Anything is negotiable."

Danny nodded, a little smile on his face. Not a hopeful one, but a content one. "And is this 'superhero inclusion program' open to all superheroes? And how would you go about defining a superhero?"

William was befuddled by the questions but rallied. "Inclusion is the whole point. Let us say anyone who dedicated say an average of twenty hours per week of their time to rescue work…and whose efforts cannot possibly be replaced by an adult's abilities can be classified as a superhero."

"Sounds fair."

More sternly William added, "But you would have to put forth your best effort on these assignments. No more trying to pass as just an average student. I want to see writing like "The Angelic Knight."

"Of course."

"I must also apologize for accusing you of plagiarism. I just didn't think it was possible that any high-school student could write something so compelling."

"Thanks…I guess," Danny was clearly uncomfortable.

But why? The story was amazing enough to be published, even if he had thought the villain too gripping, too real to be some figment of teenage imagination: one who had life and humanity breathed into him, despite being a half-fallen angel. William's thoughts slammed on the brakes.

"There's another halfa."

His student's face didn't twitch. An eyelid didn't bat. For a moment William was convinced Danny hadn't heard his statement and repeated it. "Another half-ghost like you, but evil. Your story…and that wasn't the only one with a fallen angel or demonic figure obsessed with killing your..." Thoughts flew ahead with wild abandon. "The enemy of your family alluded to in your interview. That was him. This fallen angel-demon figure. He's real—"

"Don't," Danny cut him off harshly. "He would think _nothing_ of killing you to protect his secret…or anyone else. Please, keep those thoughts to yourself."

Aware suddenly, as though a demonic-ghost was looming over his shoulder, of the real danger William closed his mouth and fought to keep from turning around. Every hair left on him stood at attention. Nineteen-Eighty Four, were these the sort of worries plaguing his student at night. "Perhaps I should wear a spectre deflector…only if it could be programmed not to shock you."

"That won't protect you. Not fully. He could still shoot you with an ectoblast or worse. The best protection from him is and has always been secrecy…" Another deep-in-memories look, "And leverage."

"I see." In truth William felt as though he was only beginning to see and that made him feel as he had upon discovering that ghosts were real…and evil.

Danny's eyes suddenly blazed green again, as though Phantom was looking through Fenton at him. "I will not let him harm you. No matter what, he won't get the chance."

Inexplicably William relaxed. "Thank you." How odd to be reassured by a teenager. Yet he had forgotten during their talk of the power Danny wielded. Now he remembered the ghosts of gods falling before this man. No child of Omelas indeed.

"Please, keep silent and keep safe," Danny said. "And thanks."

Desperately William wished for the mind-numbing release of a thick stack of papers, though he wasn't fool enough to voice that thought aloud. Desiree would only make his student too tired or tardy for his first day of senior year.

"It's the least I could do."

 **A/N:** Wow! This got a lot darker than the first draft. I read an article by a trans author who predicted their lifespan about ten years or so longer than Danny and got inspired. And a more cynical adjustment to my world-view.

If your teacher didn't assign 'The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas' it's about a utopia called Omelas that is sustained by the literal shitty misery of a single child. If that child isn't horribly miserable every second of its pitiful life the utopia will collapse. As an English teacher Mr. Lancer draws uncomfortable parallels. Still, Danny chose to be Phantom and if he wasn't, lots of people would die so he's _needed_ where the Child of Omelas isn't. And Danny doesn't need to be kept miserable _every_ second of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you guys so much for your support, reviews, favorites and everything! You've all been so helpful to making this story as good as it is. Hopefully I did certain characters more justice than Phantom Planet.

Enjoy!

 **Reconciliations**

"I've got the perfect title for my summer vacation essay: Danny's Inferno. Level one: revelations; level two: trials; level three: GIW—"

"Level nine: Laboratory," Sam added to his right.

"Technically level one happened in school, but at least you never got to level nine," Tucker said brightly from his left.

Danny said nothing, flying swiftly back to Amity Park. The downside of taking a fight far from town and vulnerable people was the time it took to fly back. And Fenton luck meant he was fifty miles away when school was about to start.

At least he still flew free, something he never thought to experience again, or at least not for years as a merciless, bigoted organization turning his worst nightmares into reality. At best he'd been prepared to walk free, barred from using his power in exchange for liberty—until someone needed his help and he was carted off to the lab for vivisection.

"Danny?" asked Tucker.

Only the worst hadn't happened. Impossibly the American Justice System _worked_ for him, a half-ghost freak, and declared him not guilty for anything and set him free…

"I…I don't know what to do." Danny admitted.

"Sure you do," said Tucker brightly. "Same as we've always done. Get up, go to school, save the world."

Sam rolled her eyes. "You've planned that interview and gotten that done before everyone barged down your doors—."

"—Still say you should have just kept letting them and charging 'em. We were making a fortune with all those campers. Sweet MIT was nearly in reach," Tucker wailed.

"Come on Tuck, they'd be nuts to turn you down," Danny said. "You'll get there, no sweat."

Tucker continued, "Besides you don't have to worry anymore. Lancer even let you do that cool 'superhero inclusion' thing this year right? Face it dude, your final year is going to be your best year."

"Yeah, final year," Danny said sadly. "But when has it ever been this easy. When have I ever not had to worry about something? I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop with no clue what to do—"

"Cluelessness should be an old friend by now," Sam snarked.

Danny smirked, "And now I'm flying by the seat of my pants."

"Ohhh, bad," Tucker shook his head.

"This does feel like the twilight zone," Sam commented. "I mean I would expect you to…" she trailed off.

"I know," Danny said, flying them all to Casper High.

Tucker broke the silence. "You can slow down a little. It's not like anyone's gonna give us detention for coming in late after fighting Spectra, Fright Knight and Nocturne. That fight's all over the news, youtube, facebook…"

"I'd still like to occasionally be on time. And get this over with."

"This? It's just school," Sam said.

"An entire student body torn between hating me, loving me and fucking me." Danny's face switched from white to red to green like a Christmas light.

"Relax, we'll protect you from the big bad students," Sam promised.

"And I'll gladly sacrifice myself to the bigger badder reporters," Tucker added, pressing a fist to his chest.

"Great, and I can stay invisible," Danny said.

"Not invisible enough to avoid the nurse checkup," Tucker reminded.

"That's right, wasn't that one of your 'accommodations' for the inclusion program?" Turning to Tucker, Sam added, "Now aren't you glad you aren't a superhero?"

Tucker shivered, "Oh hell yeah. Forced doctor's visits. Just stick me in a lab…err…sorry."

"It's fine Tucker. Heh, wouldn't be a proper near-disaster experience if we didn't joke about it. I don't need the nurse anyway. I'm fine."

"Yeah right."

The trio touched down just outside Casper High and after a prod from both his friends Danny turned visible. In full view of everyone—the parking lot was so badly packed cars were spilling out on the streets and onto the lawn—Danny shifted. With his secret blown to kingdom come he had to really work on breaking his habit of ducking away to go ghost, lest he be too late to an attack.

He still flinched just before transforming with hundreds of eyes on him, hundreds of people already heading their way.

The trio didn't run, but walked fast enough to slam the doors aside and got a standing ovation from hundreds of students.

Plastering a superhero smirk on his face, Danny said, "Hey, I know I'd be late to my own funeral," a few people chuckled with disbelief, "But being on time doesn't deserve this."

"Yes it does," Sam teased.

Most of the student body packed the halls but a knot of them bunched together and around someone like a school of fish avoiding a predator. Yup, Dash pushed and was pushed toward him with a bizarre expression of 'ready to jizz himself' and 'ready to hide forever in misery'. But the one he desperately wanted to speak with wasn't…oh wait. There—cloaked in shadow like the huntress she was.

Their eyes met. Danny's gaze dropped from a face more impassive than granite and focused on Valerie's hands. They trembled with conflict. Rising with the other students to clap. Dropping and clenching into fists when she saw him. Relaxing. Rising together. Falling apart. She followed his gaze to stare bewildered at her own hands, as though they were some foreign body part that rebelled against her mind.

Then the A-listers descended. Paulina cut in front of Dash, face glowing, eyes sparkling like Christmas, her birthday and Valentine's Day were all celebrated today. And she was getting her favorite present. A few years ago the sight of her in that get up, with that short of a skirt, that deep of a top, lips so glossy it would almost be a shame to kiss would have been too much. Fourteen year old Danny would have gone ghost from heart-attack.

Danny wasn't that idiot anymore, so he watched her approach with the resignation of informing someone that yes, that was their car he had accidentally destroyed. Sure, she was spoiled and she could be cruel, especially to other girls similar to the way Dash could to other boys. But even if she had been worse than Vlad—bad image—Paulina didn't deserve her heart broken. Especially not in front of the whole school.

So Danny delayed.

"Hey Dash, thanks again for the testimony," he said, turning his gaze to the bully. "That had to have taken a lot of guts."

Dash grinned sheepishly, "Yeah…uh you're welcome. Least I could do after," he waved a hand around, "everything."

"Still, thanks."

Danny turned away to avoid Paulina. He still had a nurse to see, right? As he stepped toward them, students parted like the red seas.

"Wait!" Dash blurted out. Faced again with his target and hero, the bully squirmed like a two year old in a long line to the bathroom, "Uh…um…I…Why?" he asked, biting his lip. "I mean…why didn't you…y'know," he rubbed his own arm, "You had the power…you kicked Pariah Dark's ass! You could've beat the shit out of me…but all you really did was move out of the way and…and stuff."

"Doing anything else would have been abusing my power." He frowned, "I could defend myself fine without beating you into a pulp. Kicking the crap out of you would have been cruel. And wrong."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for doing something wrong or sorry for picking on a person you admired?" Danny asked pointedly.

Dash blushed, eyes glued to fascinating sneakers.

"Look it doesn't really matter much to me. After the guy trying to kill me for my skin, the guy plotting to murder my dad, rape my mom and make me his evil little apprentice, a whole slew of ghost _Gods_ and a government organization dedicated to vivisecting me a high-school bully doesn't matter. But that doesn't mean you should keep picking on people." He paused, considering, "Especially since bullying is a big problem to the people who don't deal with daily death threats."

"I—" Dash blew out a sigh when Paulina shoved him to the side.

"Always the hero aren't you Danny," she sauntered toward him, wrapping both arms around one of his and pressing into him. "All this time…Fenton and Phantom. I can't believe no one guessed."

"Well being both ghost and living breaks a laundry list of scientific rules. It shouldn't be possible so no one thought it was." Danny inched away to put a little space between them.

Paulina moved closer, "I still can't believe I didn't guess. Didn't open my eyes and see what an incredible man you are."

"Well you did for one half of me but…look Paulina can we please put this—err, do this another time? Class is going to start soon," And he'd rather take a calculus test, "And two minutes isn't enough time—."

"I'd like to be your girlfriend."

Danny sighed heavily, so they were doing this now. "No you wouldn't."

Paulina didn't look a bit put off by this, "I think I know best what I want." Her hand began tracing the muscles beneath his shirt in a rather distracting.

He tried to ignore it and focused on reality.

"And do you really want someone who can't be there for you? Who is _constantly_ skipping out on every commitment because he has to stop someone from dying? Who has to put an entire town first? Or even the entire world? It's a big part of why Sam and I didn't work out in the end."

Her lips curled at the mention of Sam, then the other way at the mention of their break-up, then down again when he continued.

"—Hero work interrupts everything and it always will. Sam understood, but that didn't make it much easier to throw away our dates for ghost-fighting." Or, he thought privately, to be fighting instead of fucking.

Paulina bit her lip, "But you would make exceptions—"

Time to appeal to her ego. "If I could turn my back on a dying person, or someone trapped in their own body, would I really be worthy of your admiration?"

Paulina loosened her grip sadly. "Not even for a little fling? I like what I see Danny."

Clearing his throat—down blush, down—Danny shook his head and pulled his arm out. "Even a little fling would get interrupted—."

The bell rang.

Valerie was gone.

Ice clashed against ice as a monstrous blade carved through the chilly armor protecting Danny's head. He could feel the sharp bite against his scalp as it passed and barely twisted aside fast enough to avoid becoming a literal halfa. The helmet fell in two pieces.

A few strands of black hair followed.

"That was a close shave."

The sword swooped after it to the floor. Instead of slashing through ice and biting deep into wood, the wielder halted her sword instantly with control that flared jealousy in Danny's core. Two years of training and he couldn't touch such skill.

No time. He leapt away from another deathly blow, the tip carving a gash in his chest armor. Better than his chest, but his light armor wouldn't last long.

Distance was his friend, especially against someone covered in icy armor twice his body-weight. With speed and dexterity matching Danny Phantom at his best, she slashed again, scoring another hit on his side and piercing the armor there. His prowess was nothing compared to skill and experience enough to make his mom look like a bumbling white-belt. Taking to air, he kept himself between the other ghost and his classmates, but far enough from his opponent that the A-listers could reach out and touch him. All gawked like lemmings at the edge of a cliff.

His opponent closed the distance in an ice-covered blur and Danny fought the urge to duplicate, conjuring another ice helmet instead. This was a duel of ice and ice alone. The consequences for ignoring the rules would be far worse than ignoring Walker's laws. Charging his opponent, Danny lowered his head as Icenight had taught him…

…and sidestepping at the last second. They connected. Twisting his body slightly to unbalance the other warrior he shoved tiny, scalpel-like wrist-blades into the nearest chink.

The seasoned knight was too skilled to stumble and the size difference between them was still too much for Danny to take advantage of a minute shift in balance. He wisely retreated. A soft crack made him glance down for a split second.

One of his blades was gone.

Again, she thrust her sword at his head, forcing him to duck. Another piece of helmet shattered on the ice. He backed away from the next charge. Time was a friend. His opponent was forced to conjure enormously heavy armor and then fight in it; personal experience said the other ghost would tire first.

Eventually.

All Danny had to do was avoid a blow that would crash through his flimsy armor and tear him apart on a very non-molecular level. And find enough chinks to deal real damage with his blades. Easy.

The broken blade lodged like a splinter in the mammoth opposite of him. Massive fangs bared in an expression as much pleasure as threat and the warrior charged again. For a ghost with so much bulk covered in so much armor, she was breathtakingly fast. Danny was forced to speed up to avoid equally breath-taking blows, matching swiftness with agility, blinding parry to blinding strike like two serpents fighting.

If he could just hold out.

Danny dodged as though on speed, an IV of red bull and five hundred cups of Foley's final fuel. One hit and he'd be down. Arms as thick as his father's whole body wielded two swords as large as him. He'd never managed to get back up after one of her hits, not in time to snatch victory from defeat. One hit and it was over.

The downside of Frost-style martial arts. Maximum agility and minimum protection.

But he couldn't give up, not when every eye of the class watched their fight like a train-wreck.

Every second longer he lasted, every blow dodged by half a millimeter, deflected just enough to carve into his armor instead of him, the warrior's smile showed more teeth. He wasn't winning. Three years of fighting was nothing compared to someone who has been dueling since the _first_ tyranny of Pariah Dark. But he was hanging on just a little longer than expected. Dragging out his defeat by sheer stubbornness. Danny didn't falter, didn't slip, didn't do anything wrong.

He just didn't do enough right.

Between sheets of frost and frozen spears, trying to ensnare limbs and freeze feet, the gym floor was coated with enough slick ice to turn the best ghost hunters into a three stooges comedy strip. But neither was human. Their ice cores meant the frozen floor was as sturdy as asphalt. Danny even used the icy surface to his advantage, sliding further or faster than he could step on dry ground.

But his opponent had taught him that.

Twisting with agility an Olympic ice-skater would envy, the warrior slipped away from his strike. An icy wrist blade the length of his body and width of his leg arced toward him as he spun away. With the numb logic of an adrenaline-hyped brain, Danny knew he couldn't dodge fast enough. Even on ice.

But he could strike.

Ice shot from his palms, coating the perfectly balanced weapon until its more club than sword. His chest armor took the full blow, shattering as superhuman force sent him flying. He wasn't out. A graceful roll got him to his feet.

But that split second of rolling and rising was too long. He rose…

And half a ton of ectoplasmic body weight covered with another five hundred pounds of icy armor hit him fast as a racecar. Danny took the whole thing straight on, no protection. Air was ripped from his chest. Damn it, he thought as he went head over ass, if he'd done Floe-style he could have taken both blows and still gotten up.

Every eye is on him as he crashes, shattering a good hundred square feet of ice protecting the wooden floor. His chest screamed in agony. Stares willed him to rise. He couldn't fail. As the warrior charged, the hero took a breath and readied himself.

Rarely do Frost-style warriors get up after taking a Floe-style strike, so she's shocked when he does. For a rare moment in years Danny has the element of surprise against this opponent. He seizes it, leaping up, whipping his whole body like a striking cobra and sinks his remaining blades deep into his opponent.

He missed a chink by two millimeters.

The warrior's next blow knocked most of his energy and all fighting coordination out of him. In Frost-style martial arts, that was deadly. Every split second of hesitation was deadly. His reflexes were too slow. Danny half-staggered up like a drunk, a move that had the warrior's teeth showing like a madwoman. The first counter-strike felled him.

Leaving him wide open for the second.

Muscles that made Skulker's robotic body look like a puny wimp powered a sword once more free of excess ice, sharp as a blizzard's bite and strong enough to cleave a mountain in two.

Danny tried to move but his muscles won't obey fast enough. His hands were half raised; fragile flecks of snow gathered when, with envious control, all the power and momentum to slice the aforementioned mountain halted at his throat.

He felt the icy edge as he swallowed.

Unable to free himself without losing his head he reluctantly growled, "Give."

Icenight stood, freeing him, her mouth split nearly in two with all those teeth. "Good. Best you've done so far. We do more again tomorrow."

Danny groaned, both from the prospect and the massive clawed hand patting him on his shoulder. At least she'd vanished the armor. Sweat drenched his body and froze into uncomfortable, sticky slush against his bare skin. No amount of heaving breaths brought enough oxygen to his lungs. Standing back up was nearly too much a battle. But he had only himself to blame. He'd jumped for martial tutoring from the Far Frozen's finest Knight.

Most of the class stared with awe. Some cheers and whistles even rose. They'd lost their fear after realizing Icenight was definitely a friend and only there to teach. Besides three years of ghost encounters had made everyone reasonable at recognizing dangerous ghosts from non-dangerous. The strange icy Yeti-people were generally of the latter.

"Now, more practice. Floe-style."

Once again Danny regretted his wishful thoughts as he conjured a hundred pounds of icy armor over his battered, bruise-covered body and began going through katas. At least with so much ice he didn't feel so bare. The ancient knight insisted on traditional Far Frozen martial clothing. Paulina's stare should have melted the heavy armor like a sun against a comet.

As his whole body trembled from effort, Tetslaff looked about two seconds away from declaring undying love or at least begging Icenight to teach the rest of the class until they went ghost too. Chilled sweat still dripping down uncomfortably between skin and ice, Danny scanned the class for Valerie.

Once again she was in the back. Once again, as the bell rang and his torment stopped, she was gone.

Time passed like someone danced on whatever device Clockwork used to control the universe. Super-healing aside, he was _sore_ and the school chairs felt like torture devices. Mr. Rhawana's class was his favorite because the teacher had a passion for space, but today Danny could only think of one more awkward conversation he needed to have.

Valerie was sitting as far away from him as possible.

Hopefully sometime this century they could talk without the whole class staring at every twitch he made like it was the next moon launch. Forget the GIW lab, Danny was already beneath a microscope. When his breath came out blue, he slumped in relief.

Hissing whispers erupted as his hand flew up.

"Go," Mr. Rhawana said, but watched with unabashed fascination (along with everyone else) at the transformation.

Again Danny had to stop the reflexive run for the door with a flinch. Despite three years of practice it took more concentration than normal to flip the mental switch in his head and go from human to ghost. White rings snapped into being around his waist and flew silently over his body.

"Holy shit!"

Before he could hear anything else, but not before a concert of cell-phones clicking, Danny flew through the wall and into freedom, completely invisible. Letting out a breath as tension left, he focused on the chilly wisp.

He had, with Frostbite's help and after some very embarrassing blind-fold practice sessions, become skilled enough to hone in on a ghost with the icy sense. Knowing how to ghost hunt was necessary when not everyone announced their presence and intentions to the world.

"Danny Phantom!"

But some did.

The voice came from below, where ghosts rarely attacked, preferring the advantage of high air so this ghost likely wasn't going to fire. The voice, despite its echo, also had that giddy sound only a true phan could make.

A boy, maybe seven, ran through the park. Occasionally he would leap and spread his arms like a little kid trying to be superman—or in more recent years him—but this one floated. As wobbly as a toddler trying to walk, but he hovered a second longer than normal before gravity remembered its job. Hitting the ground his intangibility instinctively took hold, phasing him through the hard dirt.

Danny grabbed hold. "Need a hand?"

"Yeah, a little," the kid admitted breathlessly. "Thanks."

Only the newest ghosts breathed.

A few people stared, but passed the kid by. True his hair was white and his eyes glowed but that was the fashion these days. A couple of white-haired adults watched him, taking a second glance at the green skin before shaking their heads. Then taking a third glance at Danny himself and changing course. Other park goers headed over, most innocent joggers.

Not all.

"Danny Phantom! A word," someone from ghost-watch sprinted toward the pair.

"Phantom! Can ghosts have sex with humans?"

"Phantom is that ghost dangerous?"

"—reporting two ghosts: Danny Phantom and an unknown ghost kid."

"Come on, we need to get out of here. Ready for a flight?"

The kid nodded as Danny gently extended his flight to the new ghost and they shot skyward. "Cool!" The kid stared, fascinated as the ground shrunk behind them.

Phasing through two buildings, Danny finally found an empty one with a flat roof, hidden and undisturbed. Perfect for this sort of conversation. As they landed ghost kid stumbled slightly, phasing through the roof again.

"Woah! What was that?" He tried putting his foot through the roof again.

Danny pulled him out. "Intangibility kid." He said naturally.

"You mean like a ghost."

Suddenly his most glaring assumption came to a screeching halt. What if the kid hadn't been trying to fly like most ghosts did, but just tried to fly like a normal kid? "Um…do you know what death is?"

A blank look. "Oh yeah, when…something or someone goes away and never comes back."

"Right," Danny paused, hoping the boy could go from point A to point B on his own. Another blank stare; no such luck then. "You can float, you can phase through objects—intangibility—only ghosts can do that, or halfas." Another pause. "You're a ghost."

"Oh. So I'm superpowered like you?"

"Yes you are but kid…it also means…" Those words never got easier. "You're dead."

That statement got him laughed at. Which was better than crying or furious denial.

"I can't be dead. Being dead means never coming back."

"It can also mean becoming a ghost."

"Oh." A considering look crossed his face as he stood up and stared at his own legs. "You know this isn't so bad. I can walk again."

His foot slid through the ceiling, taking the rest of his leg with it. Again, Danny pulled him out. "Aww shoot!"

"Don't worry about it. No one expects you to be an expert the first time out. I once fell through my bedroom floor, the kitchen ceiling and into my parent's lab." And hadn't that been a horrific freak-out, to look at the familiar lab as the place he'd _died_. The tools he'd cleaned for years as instruments of _torture_.

"Wow? Really? I haven't done anything that bad yet."

"You're new, aren't you? You'll have plenty of time for the spectacular mistakes."

"It's worth falling through five stories, not to lay in a bed all day," he stuck his tongue out.

Danny almost objected. How could someone see life so callously? As…as nothing more than a boring history class? But kept silent. At least the kid wasn't having a panic attack yet. "And you couldn't walk in life?"

"When I was really little I could, then…" his face scrunched in concentration, "Years ago. There was a ghost. I was in the car and…" his voice softened, "It hurt so bad." A note of pain tugged the last word. "Then…nothing. After that I couldn't walk anymore. My spine, they said." Despite the August heat, he shivered.

And there was the panic attack. "Easy kid—"

"I'm not kid I'm—" he froze again. His eyes grew the size of dinner-plates, his ghostly green skin going ice-white. "I'm…" The kid clutched his head, as though trying to feel for the gaping hole in his brain.

"Deep breaths. Calm down. It's okay. You've forgotten your name?" Danny questioned.

He nodded like a zombie.

"That's really common. Most ghosts forget part or all of their names. It's why we go by names we made up, like Skulker isn't his life-name or Wulf wasn't Wulf's full name but the only part he could remember. Even I forgot mine for a little while after."

"Oh…do I have to make up a nam—?"

Danny grabbed the kid and shoved them both through the roof on autopilot. A loud crack pierced the air before their heads phased through, alongside a flash of glowing green where they'd just been. "Actually now we have to fly."

The GIW smashed through cheap, flimsy doors, guns readied and pulled the triggers.

Danny hissed sharply as one bullet dug a furrow in his neck. "What gives? You're not supposed to shoot at me remember!" He said, conjuring an ice shield, only for a bolt of green to blow through it…

…and hit his suit. An ectoranium bullet. Luckily it had lost most of its energy smashing through his ice shield; otherwise the deadly substance would have poisoned him as it tore through him. A slow, excruciating death of a festering wound. Already he could feel an uncomfortable prickle on his throat.

"Full ghosts are permissible under Anti-Ecto law chapter one, paragraphs one through twelve," Agent K quoted.

Danny pulled the kid behind him as another bullet crashed through his icy shield. This time he felt the acidic sting of ectoranium. "These are still hitting me." He started to rip them both out, paused, took out his phone and snapped a picture.

Beneath those sunglasses, every GIW agent hesitated, fingers slackening on triggers.

"We're not famed for our aim," Agent K said with the sort of neutrality that's only possible when you're suppressing a smirk. "Turns out we miss the ghost sometimes."

The kid turned at the sound of his voice, peeking from behind Danny Phantom, who wasn't done ranting. "—And ectoranium bullets? Are you looking to kill?"

Agent K hadn't said anything though. He'd raised his rifle toward the ghost kid. Danny moved again to block but the man never fired. He stilled, weapon still pointed at the ghost. Most of his expression was hidden beneath the sunglasses, but when another GIW agent curled a finger around a trigger K's voice came out as hollow and harsh as Walker's.

"No."

"Come on kid," Danny took advantage of the leader's strange behavior, grabbed the kid in one arm and phased them both through the wall. "You need to get to the ghost zone. There's a bunch of people there who can help you with some of the trickier ghost stuff."

Kid nodded but kept his eyes longingly at the ground as they flew. Only when they were at the Fenton portal did he speak up.

"Phantom?" he asked hesitantly, then fell silent.

"Yeah?" Danny prompted.

"I'm really dead?"

"Afraid so," Danny said gently.

The kid stood in front of the glowing portal, then looked back at the lab. "Your parents were ghost hunters…right?"

"Yeah?" Danny said warily.

"But they accepted you," He stared at his glowing hands. "Maybe…maybe someday I'll be able to live with my parents too? Be normal. Even if I'm a ghost?" He looked up hopefully.

"Someday," Danny echoed.

The kid looked back, a ghost of a smirk on his face, "I'm not kid. I'm Ghost Agent." And he vanished into the portal.

Danny slipped through the wall of Mr. Rhawana's class but no one, especially Valerie, was there. Must be lunchtime. As much as he would love to sit down and relax with about five burgers, he was on a different hunt.

Transforming back to human, he flinched as gravity jostled the flesh wounds. First he needed to stop at the nurse's.

For a predatory-minded woman, Valerie was very skilled at being the prey. Danny hadn't seen hide or hair of her going to or from the nurse's or in the cafeteria.

And that left one other place.

Invisibility and intangibility were absolutely necessary for this hunt, especially with everyone else looking for him. Luckily his quarry had already secluded herself, so turning visible in this nook of a hallway didn't alert a swarm of fans. Shutting off his powers he walked toward the closet, feeling a little awkward for a lack of door to knock. Her closed expression belonged behind a shut door. Probably locked too.

"Valerie?"

He opened the door a little wider. The hinges creaked. Danny stepped into the empty room Valerie often used to change to Red Huntress, inexplicably wary. Ecto-energy instinctively burst in his hand like a star. "Huh, could have sworn she was here?"

Glowing green energy encircled the room like a noose. He automatically phased, only for the ghost shield's sharp sting to tear through him, turning his flesh wounds to pockets of boiling agony. Red and black hit him out of nowhere, shoving him face-first to the floor as the whine of an ecto-gun echoed through his ears. Turning, Danny saw an ecto-gun aimed at his throat by a pair of rock-steady hands half-hiding Red Huntress's features. Her expression was wrath so furious it circled around and became calm again…

…and pressed a step further.

The ecto-energy in his hand flickered and died. "Heh…hi Val…I was just looking for you."

 **END**

 **A/N:** Like most of the fandom, I wanted to bash my head in during Valerie's moment in Phantom Planet. Here is a character with a truly heart-wrenching conflict with regards to Danny, who finds out her former boyfriend and hated enemy are one in the same and they have her smiling and clapping! Hopefully I did justice with her in this chapter and will do justice to her in the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Confrontations**

Plans went wrong. Superheroic plans went catastrophically wrong or dead wrong. Danny's apology to Red Huntress was probably the first, hopefully not to be the last. He had met ghosts of berserkers more willing to have a pleasant conversation.

Red Huntress's eyes almost glowed like a ghost's, lips peeled back to show all teeth, body shuddering as muscles strained to hold Pariah Dark's rage. Yet the gun pointed at him never twitched in hands steady as rocks. The weapon's barely suppressed ectoplasm hit his throat like the breath of heat from a furnace. Her breath came out in a cobra's hiss and when she spoke, her tone was wrathful as hellfire.

"You."

That word embodied all the rage and frustration fueling a three-year hunt of the undead. All the heart-wrenching confusion of someone who had just realized the man she had a crush on and her greatest enemy were one and the same. The word tasted of rage, spiced with betrayal and lingered with an aftertaste of sorrow.

And Danny's mouth unhelpfully replied, "Me."

A strangled, inarticulate sound of frustration and fury ripped from her throat. "All summer I denied it, tried to blind myself to the truth. Didn't want to _believe_." She shook her head. "Turn back. This isn't you. It's just a trick!" Her voice rose. "Turn back!"

She shoved the gun further into his throat, burning his ectoranum bullet graze, Danny raised his hands. "Okay, I'll turn, but this is me. I'm Danny," he willed the transformation to slowly wash over his body. "Fenton or Phantom I am Danny." He finished with a ghostly echo.

Her eyes hardened at the familiar face of her greatest enemy but Danny summoned the rings again and turned back, replacing Phantom with Fenton. "This is who I am," he said gently. "Both."

"Deception, you're pretending…"

Danny let out a breath to calm his own rising anger. If he threw a fit now they'd come to blows and that bridge would be burnt to ashes and washed away. He needed to keep calm, no matter how much it tore at him to see Huntress like this. Even at her worst, she had never hated his ghost self so badly.

"It's not a deception," he explained gently. "Whatever I look like on the outside, I'm still me on the inside. I'm still Danny. The Danny who thought you are a great woman to hang out with…" he trailed off as Huntress growled again. "…And the Danny who would really like the chance to apologize before he gets shot."

Huntress's trigger finger twitched. "Apologize?" she questioned quietly. Softness that only highlighted rage. "I've had a whole summer to _think_ about this."

"Yeah, okay," Danny said as his mind latched onto an idea. One that could get him killed, just like so many other crazy plans. He only had to trust her. Had to trust that she was more Valerie than Red Huntress; that Red Huntress was more hero than villain. Shifting from human to ghost, he laid back, pliant and accepting. Ghostly eyes met human. "I'm sorry. For everything. And you can shoot me now if you want."

Red Huntress's glare alone could have killed him. Her finger curled around the trigger. But this time her hands trembled and the gun wavered. "Damn you," she snarled, clenching her jaw. Her eyes brightened. "Damn you." She lifted her trigger finger away and pressed fingers to her eyes, trying to keep the tears inside.

No sound hid her harsh breaths as she fought for control. The threat of a sob lessened with each breath until one last sigh let it all out. Huntress took her hand away from her eyes and unclenched her jaw. Her eyes were still moist, but when she snapped "Whatever ghost," her voice was strong. He flinched and in the same waspish tone she added, "Fenton, Phantom—whatever you're called. It's just another trick."

"Danny," he corrected again, trying to stifle another pang of hurt. "I really did come here to apologize." The gun didn't waver but this time no sound or threat came from her so he continued. "I am so sorry for…for losing your father his job, and wrecking all your things and forcing you into poverty. I _swear_ I never meant any of it. Everything was all just an accident. Not that it changes anything…oh hell, that was horrible. Look—"

"Phantom shut up," she commanded. He shut up. In a soft-as-snow voice, she asked, "Tell me this, if you're willing to be truthful for once—" the words hit as hard as any ectoranium bullet, "Was—" She paused uncertainly, then hardened and soldiered on. "Did you use me? Were those dates just a chance to get close to me? So you could manipulate me?—"

"No! I would never—" Danny almost choked as the gun hit him in the throat. Acid crawled up his throat to sting his tongue. Not even his ice core made his chest so cold. How could she ever think that he would…

"Do you really…think so little of me?" He asked softly. "I guess you do." Then his voice hardened, "But why take the word of a ghost. I might be lying about that too."

"When the ghost was using his other self to…get close to me what am I supposed to think!" Red Huntress snapped.

Danny slumped slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm here to apologize and it looks like I'm doing the world's worst job of that too. And I think…if our positions were reversed. If I hadn't known your secret but you knew mine…" He could see that scenario too. No wonder she'd been so hostile. "I'd be looking over everything we'd done together. Wondering if it was all a ruse…" he trailed off, nausea rising again at such a thing. "I'm sorry."

Huntress's face melted a little before freezing back to ice. "You have no idea what it's like. What I've been through. What _you_ put me through!"

"You're right, I don't. But, for however little my word is worth, _we_ weren't a lie." He swallowed, "Spending time with you was never about using you. I really did…do like you." More softly he continued, "If I could…I think I would've given up my powers for you and I wis—would have liked…to have known you under better circumstances."

She lowered her gun just a touch.

"And I wanted to tell you…I know this won't make up for anything but Mr. Lancer has this new 'superhero code' and if you revealed yourself it would at least make school a little easier." Danny's gaze dropped to the ground. "I just thought you should know." Was this how his English teacher had felt, realizing how little all his efforts would solve anything?

"No thanks. You can take all the heat of secret identity revelations," she said bitterly.

He looked up again. "Not to everyone, it would just be to Mr. Lancer and he would keep your identity secret."

"Like you did," Huntress shot back.

"You're right. That was wrong of me. I betrayed you when I revealed you to your father. I could have stopped you other ways but I took the easy way out and I'm sorry. You should have had the chance to tell him yourself."

"Damn it you wrecked my life!" She hissed. "You and that stupid dog. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be worrying about affording college or hunting ghosts all hours of the day and night. I'd be queen bee of this school like Paulina."

He clenched his teeth around a rebuttal. It had been _her_ decision to hunt ghosts. _He'd_ been perfectly happy for her to quit. And saying that aloud wouldn't do a damn thing to stop an argument. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Valerie made an exasperated sound, gun going limp, "You know it's really hard to have an argument with someone whose responses are "I'm sorry" and "you're right."

That's the point, he almost said aloud. "But you _are_ right." Danny admitted, propping himself on his elbows. "I don't have a good argument, not for any of what I've done to you. I messed up a lot and you bore the blunt of those mistakes. All the words in the world won't be able to make it better…" Danny trailed off, feeling worse than ever. He'd tried to mend his wrongs. But how?

"I…I could get the money back. Being a big celebrity now it can't be that hard. That won't make up for near everything but maybe it would be a start? Heh…you'd be able to get into college."

Silence was Valerie's only response at first, but her intense gaze shifted to the door where Paulina could barely be seen through the window with her friends, obviously taking Danny's rejection her own way. Spinning it into something to further soothe her ego and get her hopes up. She didn't even glance their way trotting past.

"I don't really want to be Paulina either. Money problems aside being a ghost hunter is a lot better than being a second stringer to Casper High's princess."

Danny's smile was just a bit brittle, "I guess so."

"Oh I didn't mean…look I—," Valerie stopped a moment staring at Danny. Fenton, Phantom. The boy she'd dated and had a crush on. The enemy she'd tried to…kill. The person who confronted his huntress to apologize.

Who'd been willing to let her shoot him.

She stepped back and retracted her armor.

"Damn this is so unfair."

"Yeah," Danny added sadly.

"You…being Phantom. Of all people it had to be you, not Dash or that creepy stalker. It had to be someone I…liked." Loved. The Danny she knew couldn't possibly be Phantom, something she'd denied even after seeing Vlad Masters and Vlad Plasmius. The Phantom in her head didn't, couldn't fit Fenton…especially not Danny who came over to apologize to her...

…and Phantom, who held out his hands again in surrender, keeping his word—Though it would damn him.

She shook her head, "You know I was expecting more of a show between you and Paulina. You could have at least dropped her. She's a bitch."

Danny shook his head, "That would have been cruel. Paulina can be…is a bully but that doesn't mean I should be just as mean to her." He rolled into a crouch. "Besides, that's not going to teach her to be a nicer person."

"This is so messed up," Valerie said to herself. But Danny had apologized…and for what, her conscience nettled? Even if he wrecked Axion labs and her moving van on purpose those crimes was nothing compared to…to murder. A nightmare reared in daylight, a melting girl, so very small and young, made the huntress shudder. Wasn't karma the bastard of a bitch. After tearing herself up for handing a strange ghost-girl over to her potential death, Valerie found she'd been gladly, gleefully doing worse. She could have…

A sudden, vivid vision assaulted her of Danny lying on the street, charred flesh circling around an empty pit where his heart used to be. Blood and ectoplasm stained the asphalt; the stench of burning human flesh, metallic blood and acidic ectoplasm invaded her nostrils. Blue eyes stared unseeing up at his…his murderer.

Valerie jerked back, shaking her head to destroy the vision, replacing it with reality where Danny kneeled and staring oddly at her.

"Are you—?"

"I'm fine." Valerie forged stubbornly ahead. She shut down the ghost shield. "I'm…I'm sorry too. The dog stuff, wrecking Axion labs and the moving van, that was an accident. It's not like…you ever tried to kill me. I hunted you down. I had dreams…about killing you," Valerie admitted softly.

Dreams tainted with nightmarish visions of Danny taking Phantom's place all summer. She couldn't keep her anger and rage with dreams like that, with a reality like that. She'd nearly thrown her gun away when Danny—Danny Phantom—simply laid there, ready to take her shot.

Even before she donned the armor and moniker of Red Huntress she hadn't been blameless. How many times had she mocked or belittled Fenton before she'd lost all her money or ordered one of the boys to beat him up because of something absolutely stupid.

She'd been just as much a bitch as Paulina, even if she hadn't deserved to get all her money taken away…well he hadn't deserved to be hunted down like an animal.

"I guess we've both got some bridges to re-build…if you want to," Danny stood up and held out his hand. "I don't want to be your enemy. Never have. And while I can't re-write the past—at least not without horrible consequences—I can help in the future."

The last of her anger melted away. "You're too forgiving," Valerie admitted. "In the years I've done worse to you than you've done to me."

"No you—"

"Yes I have Danny," Valerie said. "I've just been denying it all summer." Now it was her turn to be fascinated by the hard, tiled, grimy floor. "You never tried to kill me. Bad enough with that little girl, nearly murdering her but you." She studied him again. "All this time. And I used her against you, just like I always feared a ghost would use…someone I loved…against me." She took a calming breath but her hands still shook. "I'm sorry for that…and for attacking you."

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly Danny added, "Well we've got a lot of work to do. I hope you'll still be…comfortable…around your worst enemy."

Valerie smirked faintly, looking up again, "Don't worry ghost boy. It's a bit of a relief actually, to find out the two Danny's in my life are one and the same. Phantom…you…weren't so bad—for a filthy ectoplasmic life-ruining idiot."

"And you're not so bad for a gun-toting ghost huntress," Danny added.

Valerie slugged him, but the punch had no strength to it. "Wise-ass."

"The wisdom of my ass reigns supreme."

"We'll talk later," she said as she left. "I'll see Lancer about the superhero thing. My grades do need a boot. And Danny?"

He was nowhere in sight, which didn't shock her in the least. "Yes?" he asked cautiously, visible again.

"Thank you."

Smoke poured off Danny like sweat as he phased through the burning remains of Valerie's former apartment complex. Fresh air tasted sweet as fresh water after drowning in the ocean to his ash-filled lungs and he inhaled gratefully. Behind him the support-beams, enforced with fire-quenching ice, groaned as heat took its toll. The fire had eaten through the last of their strength. A piece of roof fell, the beginning of a cascade of shingles, wood, wall and ceiling crashing like a waterfall into the floor below and through it. The ceiling beneath caved in, beginning a dominos affect that would eventually turn the ancient apartment complex to trash.

Thank goodness the Grays had moved out just two days before. Turning on the com unit he reported, "All clear, I've got the last person who was inside with me."

"Good, if you could fly as many of our ambulances to the further hospitals. We're having a hell of a time getting people out and the nearest hospitals are flooded."

"Roger that. Thanks."

"Thank you Danny."

Phasing the fire-fighter into the nearest ambulance, Danny duplicated and each of his duplicates hefted a van into the air. After three years of rescues, the emergency personnel were used to the odd sensation of ghostly flight and never wavered from their efforts.

Below, one ambulance was parked out of the way. The last one to leave. The one that weighed heavier on Danny than any of the four he was lifting. The one filled with the dead.

Because superheroes couldn't save everyone.

As he set the ambulances down one of the drivers laid a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Thanks kid. It may not look it, but you've done damn good here. Saved a lot of lives. Saved a lot of people from intensive care."

"It doesn't feel like enough."

"One more life makes it enough."

"Yeah, thanks," Danny absorbed his duplicates, grateful for the rush of energy. Hands and eyes glowing blue, he conjured igloos for those who couldn't get into the flooded homeless shelters. They would only last a day or two, but that would hopefully be good enough, for now. The energy he'd gained from fusing with his duplicates bled into icy homes until exhaustion settled leadenly in his core.

With ice nearly gone, his hand trembled with effort to freeze a nasty bleeder over. "They're right, saying TV is bad for you."

Settling on a construction beam twenty stories off the ground, he phased a hand through his backpack and pulled out a chocolate fro-yo bar. The chill soothed his throat and the taste of chocolate was heaven after so many hours of freezing flames, hauling ambulances back and forth and plucking people from certain death. The treat vanished in a wink and Danny pulled out another, savoring this one. Beside him a paper rustled in the slight breeze, left from one of the workers.

'Love for a Phantom?' was the headline.

"How do they get these?" he grumbled, exasperated.

Valerie kissed him on the cheek in ghost form in the technicolor picture. Damn and he'd made certain to be careful when he slipped her and her father that money. Not careful enough if someone had managed to get that picture. Ghost hunters weren't this skilled at stalking him. If the paparazzi were serious about killing him instead of taking pictures, he'd probably be dead by now.

Scanning the article below, he let out a sigh of relief and licked melting chocolate from his hands. Whoever had snapped the photo hadn't been close enough to actually hear their conversation…or they didn't have a listening device.

But other tabloid reporters probably would. He, Tucker and Sam had used them before. Something else to watch out for.

"Better than the ghost hunters," he grumbled, taking another bite of the frozen treat.

Cold bubbled in his chest, definitely not from frozen yogurt and Danny let the paper fall, shoved his snack back in its package and let one hand glow a threatening green, ready for battle. He couldn't see anything but his ghost sense was crawling up his throat now. Turning intangible, he phased through the beam he'd been floating above and surrounded his chest in Frost-style armor.

"There's hardly any reason to flee," a familiar voice chided.

Of all the people Danny had expected to confront, he hadn't actually thought Vlad would come in last…but here was Plasmius, floating in mid-air. He looked up wearily.

"Can I at least finish my snack?" he asked.

Vlad shook his head in a mockery of a parent tisking a disobedient child, a move that stoked Danny's temper. "I have come here, as always, only to talk; you're the one who likes fighting little badger."

"Uh huh, and that's why you try to murder my dad so often…and little?" Danny smirked, rising to his full height, "I think I should be calling you that by now." Standing on the beam of downtown construction, he didn't tower over Vlad but the vampiric ghost had to float a couple inches higher to maintain eye-contact.

"Speaking of your father, how is he these days? Keeping in good health?"

"Like you care."

Vlad shrugged, deceptively nonchalant. "I know at his age and weight that health problems begin popping up. It would be such a pity if he passed away in the night."

"He's fine," Danny said frostily. "No heart problems, no diabetes, nothing _natural_. Healthy as a horse the last doctor said."

"Ah yes, doctor. Isn't your sister working on becoming one?" Plasmius leaned in, "University can be trying for the young. Too many simply take their own lives, just tragic. Or your friends? They're still about the right age to ponder silly little depressions."

Cold roiling liquid nitrogen replaced Danny's heart. The beam turned white with frost before self-control reared itself, reigning in the inevitable explosion at Vlad's implied threats. Letting out an icy breath to soften the sudden anger eruption, the superhero desperately shoved aside his blinding wrath. When it came to Plasmius, getting furious, or at least visibly irritated, was usually the worst thing he could do. No, he needed to analyze his enemy's words and see the intent behind them and for that he needed a calm, clear mind.

Because right now he could see Vlad's core split in two by an icy sword right now.

When his thoughts cleared the older halfa's intentions were remarkably clear, far more so than usual.

"And that was almost villainous of you. Now all you need is a proper maniacal laugh and your cat on your lap," Danny retorted.

"Obviously such blunt tactics are necessary to get anything through your thick skull. I never thought you would be so stupid as to reveal yourself in front of everyone."

"People were in danger," Danny said automatically. Of course Vlad was worried about himself. As mayor and multi-billionaire he had so much further to fall and they no longer had a shared secret for shared leverage.

"And they would be in far more danger were I revealed." Vlad pointed out. "Which would be such a shame," he added.

"Yes, it would be a shame," Danny began in a voice of ice. "Especially since I might believe the ghost in question needed to be _contained_."

Plasmius actually paled, "You wouldn't do that, you're the hero. It's not heroic to—" he babbled.

"—To hand an enemy over to cold, calculating scientists who would rip them apart and study all the fascinating insides?" Hovering a little closer, Danny whispered, "Something I've learned from heroism Vlad. Sometimes it's not heroic. A lot of it is choosing between the bad and the worst and knowing which one is which."

At Vlad's horrified face, Danny let out a sigh that sounded old even to his ears. "Do you really think I would need threats to stop me from doing something as cruel as handing you over Vlad? Maybe that's what you would do, but not me."

"You have nothing to lose—"

"That's not the point! Even if you're a lonely, bitter, murderous old frootloop you don't deserve _hell_ in the name of science. No more than Dash deserves to be beaten into a bloody pulp or Paulina deserves to be dumped in front of everyone—even if you are a hundred times worse than both of them put together. That's vengeance," he got in Vlad's face, "And if there's one thing you have taught me, it's that vengeance is a slippery slope to evil."

"Oh what a sweet goody, goody hero speech," Vlad mocked.

"The sweet goody, goody hero who won't turn you into the GIW." Danny snarked back. "You can leave. Your secret is safe with me. But would it kill you to not murder? That shouldn't be too hard."

"Was that a threat?"

"I warn you," Danny argued. "A lot of eyes are on me right now and you don't want to do anything stupid around them."

"And I warn you not to do anything frivolous about my identity," Vlad cautioned.

Danny gave him a stoic look, "Maybe I won't hand Vlad Plasmius over to the GIW or expose your secret but there's nothing to stop me from charging Vlad Masters for his crimes…or saying he forms an alliance with certain evil ghosts."

"Hah, as though they would believe you against me," Vlad threw back. "You are merely a teenager—"

"—Denial old frootloop, I'm Danny Phantom and the whole _world_ knows. I've got the _president's_ personal phone-number. I'm not asking you to be a superhero like me. I'm just asking you to stop doing illegal and morally wrong shit like _murder_. That can't be too hard."

"You dare breath a _word_ …" Vlad floated higher and closer, "I can make it an accident. Your father, your sister, those silly little friends of yours…"

"…will die."

A supernova of wrath burst in his chest. Danny's eyes froze over. The scent of winter filled the air as ice clung heavily to the beams, over the frost. Vlad's cape hung leaden, frozen at the edges and ice coated his vision. Hands that wanted nothing more than to wrap around the throat in front of him clenched. Chilly blue eyes narrowed to icy slits. When he finally overcame enough fury to speak, his voice was a snarl colder than a blizzard in Antarctica.

"No."

Valerie had not spoken to him in such a wrathful voice. Pariah Dark, imprisoned for millennia, could not have compressed such rage into one word. Vlad actually floated a couple inches back.

"I've never taken a life Vlad." He whispered gravely, "I've never destroyed a ghost." His voice turned savage as a berserker, "But for my family I _promise_ I would gladly die…"

"…and I would _**kill.**_ "

Self-preservation forced Vlad to swallow further threats. He could not bring himself to question the validity of Daniel's words, lest they be proven. It galled him to allow Jack the life he had been denied, but for his own life he would put aside vengeance—for now. He left the young man in order to make his own preparations. It wasn't at all out of the sudden desire to put as much distance as possible between Phantom and himself.

What he needed was a bit of leverage, something more he could hold over Daniel's head. But what could that be now that his identity was revealed?

Now that ending the lives of his family would surely end his?

"Perhaps I had better look instead to my own affairs," he said to himself. With the whole world realizing half-ghosts were real; his identity was on thin ice. Vlad Plasmius might be a better moniker than that stupid pun Danny Phantom and his own ghost form bore far less resemblance to his human form but he could still be discovered. Depending on Daniel's heroic tendencies, however reliable, would no longer be enough now that people knew about the existence of halfas.

He phased through an abandoned building and turned invisible before slipping out an alleyway. Checking to ensure the alleyway was deserted, he flew out of it and phased through his own limo. Behind the darkened windows, Vlad allowed black rings of energy to slide over his ghostly form and picked up his cell phone. "This is Vlad Masters, I am in need of a lawyer's services."

"Picking up ecto-signature from limo. Verified as Wisconsin Ghost," Agent I reported as he and Agent K drove down Paranormal street in an inconspicuous white truck. "Sir! The signature _vanished_."

"Just like Phantom," Agent K growled. "A mistake, letting that ghost go free without an interrogation."

"Um…yes sir. Are you sure it is a halfa?"

"Possibly, who knows how many of those things infest our population, disguised as ordinary humans," Agent K said ominously. "With the way they can take human form, you could kiss one and not even know it."

"Thanks for that mental picture sir." Agent I shuddered, "But how are we to find his identity?"

"This is Amity Park, not New York. Look up limo users and cross-reference using facial recognition software," Agent K said. "In the ghost hunting business, you're either smart," his voice dropped and he glanced at the seat Agent I sat in, "or you're dead."

"Yes sir, speaking of we've also begun a new profile for the recently discovered 'Ghost Agent'."

"Very good, carry on," Agent K snapped.

"Sir," Agent I shifted. "Did you…do you know, _more_ about that ghost?"

"Carry on, on your own."

"But sir knowledge—"

Agent K turned away from the road, his face stony, black glasses like alien eyes pinning the junior agent in place. "You will not bring that ghost up within my hearing again."

"Yes sir, the road?"

Swerving just in time to mostly miss a convertible, Agent K ignored both the scrape and the irritated blare of a horn. He flipped open his cell. "Agent K, possible evidence that Wisconsin Ghost is also a halfa. Orders?"

"Continue monitoring the situation Agent K, but do your best not to arouse suspicion." Agent L pondered the situation. "If we play this right, we may be able to get a halfa…

"…or two."

 **A/N:** Hopefully I did Valerie justice. Of all the characters on the show she's the one I would want focused on if there was a spin-off. Valerie's had lots of time to think, so she's also had time to ponder the dark nature of their relationship and all the worst possibilities. Which came to a head in this chapter.

Vlad…well he's getting nervous. If he's exposed as a halfa, the best he could do is wiggle out of a laundry list of criminal charges. He isn't a hero like Danny, his reputation does him no good. He doesn't really have anything to gain by being revealed. That's the reason Danny had the upper hand when he threatened to reveal both their secrets. But Vlad's not out of the game yet, even with the GIW on his tail.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your inspiring reviews and questions, this story is so much better for them. Wrangling this chapter into shape was particularly difficult. I had it finished (or so I thought) but realized one scene needed to be scrapped and two more needed a re-work. Hope you guys enjoy.

 **Surrender**

' _Vlad Plasmius? Vlad Masters?'_ The damning headline blared above a picture of Vlad in ghost form threatening Danny Phantom. The billionaire felt his heart stop.

For a moment.

Shifting his stunned gaze from the headline he was woken with to the window at all the members of the GIW gathered around his property, Vlad spoke.

"Butter biscuits."

Initial shock wore away. His mind snapped from animal fear to cold human logic. Twenty years and his secret had finally been revealed. The world knew, despite the questioning tone of the headline. The worst was over. Now was the time to behave like a person instead of a brute. He grabbed his cell-phone and speed-dialed the first contact.

"Hello, Dewey, Cheetham and Howe law firm, this is Ms. Cheatham's office."

"This is Vlad Masters, I will require your services sooner than anticipated."

"Of course Mr. Masters."

A human butler appeared, schooling any wariness behind a mask of calm composure. Outside footsteps pounded on the cold concrete of his winding walkway. "When the GIW team makes it to the door, do invite them in cordially and extend all hospitality," Vlad ordered.

"Yes sir, is there anything else you require?"

"Do not speak a word of my presence. Be ready to close down the mansion just in case; otherwise continue your normal duties. Do inform the chauffeur that her services will be needed."

A fist beat the door as though it made some grave, personal offense.

" _Now_."

"Yes sir."

"What of the GIW?" another servant asked. "Aren't you—?" He waved a suggestive hand, eyes shining as though he wanted to see Plasmius in action.

"Don't be foolish, it is uncivilized to attack like an animal," Vlad censured. If he dared do something so foolish he wouldn't likely see the light of day. "Besides, it is lawful to surrender oneself to the law, is it not? And whatever the GIW thinks, they are not the law."

"—forget tea and crumpets, where is that _ghost_!"

Vlad turned invisible on instinct, prompting an odd beeping noise to resonate through the mansion. A deafening crack split walls and his hearing, so loud the sound was a physical shock-wave and the halfa fell to his knees clutching his sensitive ears. Shrapnel and shards of wall blew apart in front and behind him simultaneously. Wet ears rang in the silence. An ecto-bullet, he thought numbly as the destruction ceased instantly. The hole left was shockingly small for all the noise and destruction. He wouldn't have been able to put more than a finger through it. A gaping mass the size of his head had been gouged out of the wall, leaving only the thinnest layer of wood and stone narrowing like a funnel to the bullet-hole. Had he peered through it, he would have seen his backyard. The bullet had gone right through every stone wall.

That could have been his chest, or his head, save for the GIW's horrible aim.

"In here!"

Vlad snapped into action.

White suited agents poured into the room, ecto-guns firing and unknown instruments in tight clutches. Phasing through the floor, Vlad returned to visibility and tangibility, straining damaged ears. Footsteps reverberated from the ceiling, spreading out, searching.

"—dropped off the grid," a muffled voice observed.

"Not for long, the second he goes invisible, he goes visible."

"That stupid invention tracks my powers," Vlad hissed. Fully in human form, he moved as quickly as possible while staying silent. He needed to be out of sight. He needed to be undetectable. He needed to be in his garage.

"—the floor below."

"Shit, made a ghost."

"End it."

Shrill ghost alarms, shots and a ghostly scream covered Vlad's panicked footsteps.

Flight made both grounded vehicles and a chauffeur a waste of money, but now Vlad was grateful for the frivolity. If he dared take to the air, every single GIW tracker would probably go off like the Fentonworks security system—followed by enough ecto-bullets to rip him apart molecule by molecule. Just like that other ghost.

Doubtless the infernal instruments were a product of Jack Fenton's insane mind.

GIW agents kicked the ball room door open, guns aimed, unresponsive ghost trackers held out. In the nearby hall, Vlad gently turned the doorknob and closed the other ballroom door as softly and silently as possible, heart pounding. That was a little too close. If the GIW took him, ectoranium bullets would keep him from seeing the light of a lab.

"Agent to each exit, find Plasmius."

Silently backing away from the door, Vlad stifled the instinct to use his powers. Setting off their equipment in any way would grant him the same fate as the ghost above. He needed to do this as a human.

The door's handle turned. Vlad ducked behind the nearest trophy shelf, curling knees to chest to hide completely. Just glance and shut the door, he mentally commanded the agent.

Agents didn't respond to mental commands. She stepped further into the room, ghost detector in one hand, gun in the other. Footsteps whisper-soft on plush carpet.

Why hadn't his servants woken him up as soon as they learned this news? He'd had to get up to GIW sirens and read about it from the paper of all things.

Her footsteps drew closer.

Vlad could stay where he was and hope she didn't see him or pounce like an animal. Instinct and reason warred within his mind. He ground his teeth in helpless frustration as though he'd never left the hospital. Everything stunk of disinfectant as though he was squeezed beneath his bed to hide his newfound ghostly form.

The agent's shoe landed just shy of his hiding spot. Black, just like the nurse's had been.

Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.

She took one more step. A bloody, ectoplasmic footprint stained white carpet.

Vlad didn't dare breathe, didn't dare look up lest she somehow sense his gaze. Blue eyes locked on her gun. The instrument would let him know if he was sighted—with a bang.

She looked down. His heart stopped again.

"Huh, cheesehead."

A split second before overshadowing her, the agent turned away. Vlad risked a glance up. She pulled out a communicator. "Agent J reporting…"

Damned either way, he might as well do.

"…no sign of him here."

Vlad's eyes bugged out, freezing in mid-pounce and nearly toppled over with relief. She hadn't seen him. Impossibly she looked and hadn't seen.

"It. Agent J," her superior corrected. "Remember it's not human."

Trembling at his own daring, he rose on shaky legs behind her—in full view—as she left the hall. He fled the other way, turning the first corner, sweat dripping like bullets down his face. Not little twenty-twos either; the fifty caliber bullets they shot at him. The agent must have seen the football. Only his precious Packers memorabilia and somehow missed the billionaire right beside it.

He still had a chance. Could still grasp victory from the jaws of defeat. If he could just get to the garage undetected, even his secret identity's death wouldn't damn him. The GIW were searching for him inside the mansion. He needed to get out. Vlad turned another corner, making for the nearest window. To his lawn. A solid, unbroken, massive, perfectly groomed green banner of wealth.

Not so much as a neatly-trimmed shrub to hide behind.

Wood splintered with a resounding crack from the next room. A bullet. No, another door kicked down. "—hall clear. Checking kitchen."

The GIW would find him in a minute unless he got out. Fumbling with the window—blasted things he'd always phased through—the billionaire slipped out, shut it as silently as possible and pressed himself next to the brick wall. Gold daffodils did nothing to cover the ripe smell of mulch. Vlad wrinkled his nose; the indignity.

A breath of air ruffled silver bangs as the window opened. Vlad froze beneath it, dignity flying out his head. Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't look down.

Vlad turned his shoes sideways so they wouldn't poke out and give him away. Seconds turned into minutes. How long could it take to search the damn lawn?

A spotless white-clad leg appeared in front of him as the agent actually climbed out of the window, looking around once more. A metallic, acidic stench rose from black shoes.

Next time his lawn was going to be decorated: trees, bushes, statues of himself to imitate in emergencies like this. Never again waiting exposed in green and gold pajamas for an agent to glance the wrong way.

"What are you doing?" Vlad flinched.

Another agent poked their head out the window. The first answered. "Searching, same as you."

"Lawn's clear. Not even a blade of grass out of place," the second agent said.

Yes! That's right. No Plasmius here. Now go back inside.

"Ectoplasmic scum probably had people clip it with scissors and rulers."

Not after this he wouldn't. The grass could grow as tall as it wanted.

"Fine." The GIW agent turned around. Vlad's heart did an acrobatic routine unhealthy for a man outside his twenties.

The window shut.

Vlad slumped like a broken doll. Even the fresh mulch smelled sweet now. Running and hiding like an animal was not for him. The garage beckoned. He bolted for it, fear of discovery hemorrhaging like lifeblood.

His chauffeur was one of the few humans who had known his secret. Though he trusted no one, he trusted money and she was eager to keep silent for a seven-figure salary. She waited patiently by the Corvette and didn't bat an eye at his sweaty, pale face, his torn, dirty pajamas or the leaf he picked out of his hair. "Not the Ferrari?"

"The Corvette is slightly faster sir."

"We won't need to hurry," he said. "Did you think I would escape by car?"

She blinked, the only sign of shock. "I uh…thought you would go for the unexpected escape route."

"In a way. Take me to the police station and do so quietly an unobtrusively."

"Yes sir." She paused. "Perhaps we should take a different car. And get you a change of clothes."

The sight of Vlad Masters, possibly Vlad Plasmius, stepping out of a fancy Mustang—the most nondescript vehicle he owned—dressed for the red carpet shocked the speech out of Chief Borden. But being the longest lasting chief of police in Amity Park meant knowing the answer to 'who ya gonna call.'

Danny Phantom swooped down to Amity Park's Police Department just in time to catch the rest of Vlad's speech.

"…Ah Agent K, while I would normally surrender myself to your tender mercies, unfortunately I have a previous appointment with the police. They are of course the proper enforcers of the law and if any law has been broken I could hardly allow myself to be _illegally_ detained."

Vlad suppressed a smirk. Danny could hear it.

"We were at your house ghost!"

"Then we must have just missed each other because upon the revelation I hurried over here."

"Conveniently in a way untraceable by the GIW," Agent K accused.

Giving the elder halfa a wary glance, Danny turned to the police chief. "What's going on?"

"Glad you finally decided to show up. The GIW actually beat you here," Bordon teased. That earned her several glares. "We have a problem," she admitted seriously. "Vlad Masters has turned himself in to us and demonstrated that he is a halfa like yourself, however the GIW claim priority."

"In accordance with the anti-ecto legislation all captured ghosts are to be surrendered to GIW custody—"

"In accordance to a trial a couple months ago, halfas don't fall under your jurisdiction." Facing Danny, Bordon added, "And we don't have the ability to hold the Wisconsin Ghost."

"And?"

"In your capacity as deputy, I ask you to take custody of Vlad—Masters—"

"Never! The GIW is the highest ecto-authority—!"

"—does a teenager really have the authority—"

"—are you nuts? This frootloop threatened to kill my whole family!"

Chief Bordon raised an eyebrow, "That is interesting to hear." She caught the red-eyed glower Masters shot the superhero. "Regardless we cannot contain him. The GIW can't legally hold a halfa and if he does escape, you are our best bet at stopping him."

"The GIW is perfectly capable of restraining him," Agent K pointed out. "How can we be certain you are not compromised by a ghost?"

Chief Bordon whipped around, "I would love to hand him over to you—just so you can fuck yourselves up in your own assholes with those thick skulls."

The GIW remained silent. Bordon leaned in nose to nose. "And if you accuse me one more time of being overshadowed you'd best hope I am." Turning to Danny she said, "Now, will you take him into custody in Fentonworks?"

"No way," Danny said.

* * *

"But mom!" Danny complained.

"No more buts sweetie, we've had this argument too many times. Don't worry, we've got him locked up tight," Maddie soothed.

Danny refused to be soothed. "He wants to kill dad, rape you, slaughter all my friends, pit my sister against me and melt Dani down into ectoplasm! He's a murdering, murderous murderer."

Maddie's face hardened. "I know, but do you really trust GIW technology to contain him? Your father has complete faith in his inventions—"

"Dad's last invention turned me into a griffon!"

"And I have complete faith in my modifications."

Danny let out a sigh.

She kissed his forehead. "If anyone can keep Vlad in custody, it's us. We're ready for him. You're ready for him. We will be safe. We have been safe all this time." Maddie soothed.

"He just hasn't decided to strike yet," Danny warned. "What's taking so long anyway? My trial was like that." He snapped his fingers. "This is..." he waved a hand around, "it's been months since you guys _overruled me_ and decided to take a murderer into—" he stopped, hearing his father's footsteps.

"Vladdie's…situation is different," Jack admitted, leaving the Ops center. With Vlad in the lab, everyone agreed the basement was off limits to Jack. "Filthy rich you know." He added sadly.

With a spark of former cheer Jack continued, "Besides, I invented everything he's in and if a scientist can't stake his life on his inventions, what can he do."

An alarm cut the air.

Danny transformed automatically. Maddie's hand jerked to her gun before realizing the alarm came from her pocket. "False alarm! Sorry, darn ringtone. Hello?"

A moment later she hung up. "Danny, we need your help inside. It's time."

Danny nodded and opened the lab door to his parent's domain. Most of it was normal, though the chaos of tools, ectoplasm, modified inventions and wiring was slightly different without his dad's additions. To one side the ever-present portal was shut, locked, barred and required a key, combination and Fenton DNA to open. In a far corner was a cage built specifically to contain ghosts long-term.

Once, its purpose had been to hold him.

The cell had been hastily outfitted with a sleeping bag and a portable john. Vlad stood inside, hands and ankles shackled with strange wiring that could allow him freedom of movement or suddenly snap together, rendering him immobile with a push of a button.

Danny pushed the button.

Bound on the floor, Vlad still gave him a sly grin. "Relax Daniel, what reason would I have to harm your parents now?"

"Why not?" Danny snapped.

"Do not be foolish dear boy. If I were to kill them I would be beneath the scalpels of the GIW right now."

"You're planning something," Danny said.

"When am I not? Come to kill me?"

"No, I've come to release you. Your trial finally starts today."

Vlad was perfectly calm as a new set of restraints clasped his arms and the old retracted. Had the anti-ecto fraction or the GIW their way, he would be getting a stake, not a trial. As they left the lab and headed out Fentonworks, Daniel's hands clenched more tightly around him.

"Relax, I am not about to make a break for it now," he reassured, stepping outside for the first time in months.

Dozens of cameras exploded with light as reporters pounced, though unlike with him, Danny noted the paparazzi kept their distance from Vlad, either out of respect or fear. That didn't slow the onslaught of questions.

"Mr. Masters, any comment on your halfa status?"

"Mr. Masters what do you have to say for your secrecy?"

"Mr. Masters how did you die?"

A faint, familiar whistle pierced the air and set alarm bells in Danny's head. Battle reflexes ingrained by years fighting this particular enemy forced Danny to shield before he even consciously realized the shriek was a missile. Skulker's favored weapon detonated, alongside an explosion of screams but Danny's shield held. Alongside the hunter ghost was Fright Knight on his steed and three very familiar vultures. The core of Vlad's loyal ghosts. Even if he and his family could contain Vlad, even if Danny could take out the six ghosts alone, the Fentons couldn't do both at the same time. Danny duplicated once more, each duplicate clad in armor worthy of Frostbite's honor guard.

Ready to try.

"Stop!" Vlad commanded.

Danny didn't obey, but the other ghosts did. Fright Knight was the first to speak. "But sire?"

Holding himself high and noble as though he'd never cowered in his life, Vlad continued. "Leave me."

"You vant—?" one of the vultures asked, waving a wing at the whole ensemble. His tone clearly said Vlad was crazy.

"I have faith that justice will prevail," Vlad said. Danny barely managed not to barf at such false sentimentality. "Now please, cease and leave."

Fright Knight gave short bow. "As you command." And spurred his horse away. Skulker did so next with a shrug and a muttered, 'humans.' The three vultures glanced back and forth. "As ze living say, your funeral."

Calmly Vlad stepped into Jack's monstrosity, taking his seat like a king would a throne. Daniel and Maddie followed him like an honor guard. Jack rocked the van as he sat down, took the wheel and paparazzi scattered like starlings.

Vlad had to have faith in the justice system he'd cultivated, in the law he'd groomed for years. Any form of attack, retaliation or resistance would only damn him further in court. The GIW would not hesitate to see him in Daniel's place and if they could get him arrested for resisting arrest—all's fair in love, war and justice. This was a battle of words, not fists.

He calmly followed young Daniel to his lawyer: Ms. Imani Cheatham.

"How is the jury?" Vlad asked. A round-about way to see if his orders had been carried out.

"New. The judge switched juries at the last moment."

Vlad stiffened slightly and Daniel had to nudge him into the court-room proper. Immediately he glanced at the jury. No one he knew of course; completely ordinary people—who hadn't been offered so much as a red cent of the Master's fortune. A ludicrous sum of money they would otherwise have been forced to acquit him to claim.

His binds vanished. Daniel transformed back to his deceptively human appearance and took his seat. Vlad could almost convince himself that his secret had never been exposed. The youngest Fenton was a reminder otherwise; present to prevent his escape, not that such a desperate resort was needed. Imani Cheatham shouldn't have any trouble. Young Daniel had even established a precinct of not allowing half-humans in GIW custody.

If worst came to worst…well he'd prepared for that too.

People squished each other like sardines in the courtroom benches and crammed themselves even more tightly standing. Despite the unseasonably cool spring weather—snow was threatening—people shucked as many layers as presentable and Vlad caught the stench of human sweat marinating the stifling room.

Hundreds of eyes glared at him with potency only betrayal could inspire. These men and women had supported his anti-Phantom policies as mayor. They allowed him to write and edit their laws to condemn ghost-kind. Who had thought him on their side.

Vlad smirked at the anti-ecto crowd.

"Enough!" Judge Lyon bellowed moments later, silencing the erupting courtroom and freezing people at their feet before promptly breaking that silence. "The next person to attempt an assault anyone will be charged with such and we can conveniently have the speediest trial in history. Now, this trial of Vlad Masters-Plasmius verses the Guys in White is in session. The prosecution may now begin their opening statements. Everyone else may sit down and be silent."

A shuffling of clothes and feet, and the remaining protesters reluctantly obeyed. Agent P stood. "Many mysterious thefts and suspicious deaths have laid a trail to Mr. Plasmius's—"

"—Objection! My client's legal name is Mr. Vladimir Masters and he shall be referred to as such," interrupted Imani Cheatham.

"Is your client legally alive? He's masqueraded as a ghost for over twenty years and many unsolved crimes lay at his feet, which paved his road to success."

"As established by _GIW vs Danny Phantom_ , those known as 'halfas' are granted living status. Also the legal definition of death is the _permanent_ cessation of brain or heart/lung activity. Obviously whatever _temporary_ cessation might have occurred, the two have working vital organs currently, ergo Mr. Fenton is alive and so is Mr. Masters. I have a dozen doctors signed statements to that effect." Ms. Cheatham pulled out a stack of papers.

"Vlad Plasmius aka The Wisconsin Ghost—who has enough stolen money to buy all those doctors ten times over—has also been implicated in the release of several ghosts, most notoriously the weather-controlling ghost on Amity Park—"

"From which Vlad Masters was exempted," Ms. Cheatham countered.

"How do we know he didn't simply overshadow us all to get that exemption? In fact how do we know he didn't overshadow the voters in order to become mayor in the first place?" Agent P snapped.

"Objection, this is fear-mongering and has no place in the courtroom where fact must prevail! Furthermore how do you know Mr. Phantom didn't overshadow the jury in order to gain his freedom?" Ms. Cheatham retorted.

The GIW prosecutor tried desperately not to throttle the slug of a lawyer as he was forced into the truly damnable position of _defending_ one ghost to rake coals over the other. "Danny Phantom has proven an upstanding citizen with a long list of heroic exploits, something your _client_ can hardly claim." Reluctantly he added—because character witness of a _ghost_ shouldn't stand as evidence—"We also have monitors throughout the courtroom to ensure no overshadowing occurs." Spectre deflectors kept critical members from being possessed but that was best kept secret.

"In fact now that opening statements are concluded?" He glanced to Judge Lyon who nodded, if one could consider their argument opening statements. "I call my first witness, Mr. Daniel Fenton…Phantom, to the witness stand."

Another halfa taking to the stand? Vlad hadn't thought the GIW would bend their anti-ghost rhetoric backwards enough to work with a half-ghost. That must have burned. Half the peanut gallery shifted their glares to the prosecution, but a few smirked, appreciative of the irony.

A potentially damnable move. Daniel knew more about Vlad's _activities_ than any living or dead witness. Voice low, he told Imani. "Rip him to pieces."

She nodded.

Meeting Daniel's stare, he allowed his eyes to flash briefly red. The other halfa gave him a venomous scowl.

"Mr. Fenton-Phantom, if you would tell us in your own words the crimes you have witnessed from…Mr. _Masters_ -Plasmius."

"Do you want a top ten or everything?" Danny asked.

Agent P smirked; fighting fire with fire could sometimes be satisfying. "Everything."

"Three successful murders I have personally witnessed," Danny admitted gravely, failure bleeding from every pained word. "Murder of Agent O, murder of Lisa May, murder of Minu Domini."

After a moment of solemn silence, Agent P added, "Agent O was attempting to bring the Wisconsin Ghost to justice, Lisa May was the owner of an Amity Park ghost-art company and Minu Domini was an inventor."

Danny continued. "Multiple accounts of attempted murder toward all members of my family exempting Maddie Fenton, in order: Jack Fenton, myself, Jazz Fenton. Multiple accounts of attempted murder towards Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Valerie Gray and Damon Gray. Attempted murder towards Mr. Lance Thunder, Principal Ishyama, every single member of the GIW, exempting Agent Y and I so far—"

"—Do you have proof of these allegations," lawyer Cheatham interrupted. If the prosecutor's smirk got any wider she'd have to tear it off.

"Witnessed them. You're not helping me go through this testimony any faster. And I've had to stop Vlad from killing quite a few people over the years."

"Continue," Agent P commanded.

Ms. Cheatham continued instead: "Were all these so-called alleged attempted murders done by Mr. Masters-Plasmius or other ghosts?"

"Agent O was murdered by Vlad personally and every member of my family has been attacked or had an attempted murder perpetrated on them directly by Vlad. Others were murdered or the attempt made by ghosts under his control."

"Of fact, according to the anti-ecto act, paragraphs six, seven and eight, no non-ghost may be charged for any ghost actions, regardless of behavior. My _half-human_ client can hardly serve punishment for the actions of obsessive ghosts."

Tension thickened glacially. Hands clenched around wood as several audience members only restrained themselves from attacking lest the judge make good on his threat. Agent P's restraint threatened to crack the solid oak paneling beneath his hands.

"Regardless," Agent P snapped, "Your client is still responsible for some of these murderers."

"These _alleged_ attempted killings, witnessed by a boy, have insufficient proof of legally defined murder," Ms. Cheatham pointed out. "The prosecution has not yet proven that."

"We are capable of calling up every person mentioned in order to testify," Agent P threatened.

"And for what reason did all these people anger Mr. Vlad Masters…Plasmius, enough to assault them?"

"Objection—!"

"Is murder ever justified because of the murderer's anger?" Danny asked softly, glowing green stare pinning Imani Cheatham like a butterfly.

"Ah, well, of course murder, a planned act with intention to kill someone—"

"Vlad doesn't do anything spontaneously. Every action is planned: every murderer, successful or failed, down to the deliberate sabotage of my parent's invention." Danny paused, "Though he wasn't aiming to give me powers, just to kill my dad—or possibly turn my mom into a half-ghost."

Several gasps resounded at this declaration but Ms. Cheatham plowed on. "What proof do you have of these allegations?"

"Paper documents written by Vlad himself, along with video evidence of the spying." Danny answered before any objection could be raised.

"As for why: Lance Thunder was investigating Plasmius and potentially exposing his crimes and connection to Masters. Principal Ishyama barred the way when Vlad wanted a position to oversee Casper High. My father loves my mother, who is Vlad's obsession. I put a stop to many of his crimes so he wants me out of the way."

"Perhaps you could list some other crimes alongside the murder and attempted murder," Agent P suggested.

"Torture, kidnapping, illegal imprisonment, non-consensual vivisection, non-consensual unethical experimentation on sentient beings."

"These are not considered crimes by the GIW," Ms. Cheatham pointed out. "When inflicted on ghosts," she added. "Were these crimes inflicted on ghosts?"

Danny and Agent P gave her burning glares but she didn't back down. "If these claims are true, my client has done nothing more or less than the lawful, government-sanctioned GIW."

"These crimes were inflicted on halfas," Danny reluctantly admitted.

The prosecutor cleared his throat nervously. Cheatham pounced. "Then if the court may clarify as to whether non-consensual experimentation is a crime upon halfas or not?"

With Agent P giving a twitchy evil eye, Imani waited patiently and Judge Lyon nodded, "By interpretation of past cases non-consensual experimentation of any type is illegal upon known halfas."

"And Danny Phantom was a known halfa to Vlad Plasmius," Agent P challenged.

"And now Vlad Plasmius is a known halfa to the GIW," Cheatham shot back.

At least no one could legally tear him apart molecule by molecule in the name of science, Vlad thought.

"Other crimes," Agent P snapped.

"Would include attempted rape," Danny's eyes glowed a fierce green, "of m-Maddie Fenton—."

"That was not rape!" Vlad protested.

"Objection! Out of order," the prosecution bellowed.

"Her kick said otherwise," Danny commented. "And other crimes include theft, vandalism, assault, breaking and entering and spying."

"Does the defense wish to cross-examine?" The judge asked.

"Yes," Ms. Cheatham said, ignoring Vlad's jerking head, or not noticing it. "When you _allegedly_ witnessed these supposed crimes were they actually committed by Vlad Masters-Plasmius or another ghost or even that shape-shifter ghost?"

"I was stopping the _real_ Vlad Masters-Plasmius from committing those crimes, yes. Of course, I didn't name everything he did because I only caught him at a small fraction of the crimes he executed," Danny said.

"You are certain this was not a mere misunderstanding?" Ms. Cheatham added quickly, "That he was actually committing these alleged crimes instead of doing something else."

"The only misunderstanding that occurred was when Vlad let the Ghost King Pariah Dark loose. He only wanted to steal the crown of fire, not release a world-conquering tyrant."

"Is there a point to this?" Judge Lyon asked.

"One more question," Ms. Cheatham reluctantly readied her last desperate tool. "Is the testimony of a half-ghost even eligible, given their dubious legal and person-hood standings?"

Vlad gave Imani an admiring glance before turning to the steaming GIW persecutor. Dismissing Daniel's extensive testimony by treating halfa's as sub-human would throw away their chance to convict him of anything. Keeping Daniel's testimony and extending full legal and person-hood standings for halfa's would ensure the GIW couldn't legally touch him.

What will you do?

Apparently attempt spontaneous volcanic transformation.

The tension turned from ice to lava. Through gritted teeth, Agent P spoke. "Yes."

"Pardon me? If you would clarify your answer for the court?" Ms. Cheatham asked sweetly. Vlad knew there was a reason he had hired her.

"Yes, halfas may testify as _people_."

"No more questions your honor," she said, stifling her smugness. Vlad didn't bother hiding his smugness. Whatever the outcome, the GIW had lost; they would never get him.

Danny left the witness stand.

Agent P had to take a moment to stop impersonating a volcano. "We call the Axion Labs head of investigation as witness."

The investigator took her oath. "Nearly four years ago Axion Labs was vandalized by a ghost dog. Another ghost, Danny Phantom, was placed at the scene but later investigation revealed his presence and the ensuring destruction was accidental. Further investigation revealed that Vlad Masters-Plasmius, who had been attempting for some time to buy-out Axion Labs, purposefully released the ghost dog multiple times in the vicinity of Axion Labs. Days after winning a ludicrously low bid for the company, Vlad Masters-Plasmius black-listed Damon Gray."

Toward the back Valerie Gray gave Vlad the stare of a basilisk. If looks could kill there wouldn't be so much as an atom left of the multi-billionaire.

"Does the defense wish to cross-examine the witness?"

"Yes. What proof do you have of my client's involvement?"

"Video evidence taken by one of Damon's outer cameras," said the investigator.

A tint of gray bled into Vlad's complexion as the short clip played, damnably showing him releasing the dog Skulker caught for him. The lighting was predictably horrible and his ghost form grainy but…damn it, he should have left that to Skulker. After so long of trying to get that stupid lab, he'd wanted to ensure nothing went wrong.

Even when doing things yourself, they went wrong.

"No more questions. However I must bring up paragraph eight of the anti-ecto law, that being: "Any ghost and any activities thereof are considered completely independent of any with living status. None with living status may be charged for any ghostly activity," and if I may remind the jury that Mr. Masters has living status."

"That is not what that law means and you know it!" Agent P bellowed. "Especially not when ghost and human are the same person!"

"That is what the law says."

"It was written by Pl—Mr. Masters-Plasmius and cannot possibly—"

"Actually it is still perfectly legal." Ms. Cheatham was a professional and kept her face neutral. "All the laws written by Vlad Masters passed through due process and are perfectly legal. Therefore Mr. Masters is not in any way responsible for the actions of any other ghosts. How many of his alleged 'crimes' were committed by other ghosts?"

"Enough! Mr. Lance Thunder, who has specifically investigated Vlad Masters-Plasmius, is called to the stand."

"I compiled a suspicious trend." Lance turned away from Vlad's bloody stare. "You can see the graphs where Masters has acquired another stock or company and the odd mental symptoms the owners seemed to experience…those that," he swallowed, "Didn't disappear. I thought maybe Masters had a ghost working for him, before a ghost tried to kill me..."

"…and Danny Phantom saved me."

"Does the defense wish to cross-examine?"

"Yes, what actual proof do you have that Mr. Masters actually committed any of these alleged crimes?"

"Aside from ecto-blasts aimed at my head and heart I have only the hundreds of documented coincidences ma'am."

"So the ghost known as the Wisconsin Ghost, Vlad Plasmius, was the one to attack you?"

Mr. Thunder reluctantly admitted, "Well at first it was the hunter ghost—"

"—in other words a ghost without solid connection to Mr. Masters and a string of coincidences. You have nothing."

Mr. Thunder straightened defiantly. "I have my investigation."

"Which has no proof behind it, no more questions."

"In closing," Agent P began, "There is overwhelming evidence in Plasmius's bloody history of attempted murder, actual murder, theft, sabotage and mind-control. The true extent of his crimes may never be known but this has gone far enough. This is why the GIW were created and why Danny Phantom must exist, to stop people like Vlad Masters-Plasmius, who abuse the powers granted to them by an act of God."

"In closing," Ms. Cheatham implored, "My client has clearly been victimized by the very same prejudice that would condemn Danny to imprisonment for the rest of his short, painful life. Furthermore, though Mr. Masters has not been as boastful, public or destructive in his heroism as Phantom, he has nevertheless saved millions of jobs, selflessly spending billions in order to keep dozens of American companies from falling. He _alone_ has prevented a second Great Depression. Unfortunately when it comes to justice, if he is found guilty Mr. Masters will be unlikely to see the luxury of any sort of jail cell or be entitled to the basic humanity of the death penalty."

The courtroom grew stifling hot, muggy with human sweat as the hours passed. The pitiful air conditioner gave its last gasps before dying.

The jury returned.

"We have heard all these arguments and debated them heavily and hereby find Vlad Masters, aka Vlad Plasmius…"

 **A/N** : I headcanon that Vlad was responsible for a whole lot more shit than even we, as the viewers, ever saw. I can totally see Vlad wanting some sort of ironic vengeance on Jack—getting him killed by ghost portal or turned into a halfa—and when that didn't work, falling back on his reunion plan.

It makes more sense to me for Vlad to be involved in Damon's downfall. Using Cujo he gets the business he wants and a convenient pawn at the same time. Besides even with everything destroyed Damon has to have serious connections and education. Getting a new, well-paying job should have been easy—unless another rich and powerful person secretly intervened…which would keep the Grays in poverty and Valerie under Vlad's thumb.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thank you all so much everyone who reviewed! Next chapter up with Vlad's fate.

 **Escape**

"Guilty."

The word was not shouted, but rang through the room, through Vlad's ears, through his skull. Two syllables: twin tolls of a death knell. Ghostly instinct turned him intangible, escape on his mind before he could think, for the fraction of a second his brain was still processing. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, could not compute the fact. Stubbornly his train of thought crashed into the stone wall of denial, stuck on the track of This Wasn't Happening.

Guilty.

All his money, all his bribes, all his power, the best lawyer and he _lost_ where Daniel had won! By all the powers he had lost! His life as mayor Masters, as multi-billionaire Masters, as Vlad Masters was completely over. His human life was over. No more Amity Park, not when he would be hunted down by the GIW like an animal. No more United States of America and all the companies he had so carefully collected over the years. No more political arguments and grooming the law. He wouldn't be the GIW's next pet project, Imani Cheatham saved him from that hellish fate; small consolation to the horrible yawning existence of a vagabond, a runaway, a street urchin.

Guilty.

The first jolt of shock passed through him and Vlad's rational mind snapped back into focus a second after the proclamation was voiced. He turned tangible again, running through options as quickly as a super-computer. Wait, allow himself to be carted off to jail and escape later…which could leave the GIW free to take hold of him. No, Imani had at least ensured his human rights. They couldn't take him away.

But Vlad Masters-Plasmius was not about to spend the rest of his life or even a single second of it incarcerated. The life of a wanted criminal was better than that of an unwanted criminal. He turned intangible again and this time slid through the floor.

Or tried to.

His thoughts were jolted back to reality the instant he started sinking. Electricity coursed through his veins and with a yelp he jumped back to the courtroom.

"What?"

"Ghost proofed, just in case." The GIW agents surrounding him had the smuggest smirks on their face, especially Agent K. "Maybe Phantom has fooled everyone but you haven't—gah!"

Vlad pounced on the agent, transformation rings snapping so fast he was Plasmius in the space of an inch. One clawed, glowing hand ripped the spectre deflector off as Agent K withdrew his ecto-gun and pulled the trigger. A white flash signaled Danny Phantom joining the fray. Too late. Shooting from the hip, the ectoranium bullet missed the diving ghost by inches. A spectator collapsed and Vlad overshadowed the man. More GIW agents pulled out guns and aimed them at the overshadowed agent but no one fired yet.

"Get out of him!" Agent I yelled.

Maddie Fenton was the first to squeeze her trigger. Her aim infallible, green ectoplasm slammed into the GIW agent but the instant Vlad toppled out of Agent K's body he phased in again. Another shot rang out, followed by more as the GIW and Phantom joined the battle. Pandemonium ensured. Agents fired at every ecto-blast whether from a ghost or human. Several people armed with civilian Fentonworks gear fired back. Vlad added to the chaos in Agent K's body, his aim nearly as infallible as Maddie's and the green tint to the sky vanished as the ghost shield died.

Hands and eyes glowing eerie blue, Danny conjured a shield of ice to shelter unarmed from armed. Blasts of green energy and light-quick glowing bullets smashed the barrier, cracking webs of fractures but halting harmlessly before piercing the ice. Phasing out, he plucked two wounded from puddles of blood and slipped back through, laying them near Tucker. "I think they're still alive. Wounded over here!" he bellowed to the crowd as he froze over wounds. Another quick phase-out and he came back with two more. Seizing the advantage, Vlad flew the GIW agent into the air and passed him through the roof, ecto-bullets ripping through the ceiling half a second behind.

Vlad-K shot back into the court-room through its new skylight, Ghost Agent's shoulder plowed into his chest, hurtling him to the floor. Eyes and hands glowing gold, he screamed, "Get out of my dad!" and shoved both intangible hands into the GIW agent's chest. Vlad was yanked out, red eyes wide with shock just in time to cushion Agent K's fall. Shoving the larger man off, the halfa recovered, "Just who are you supposed to be? Danny Phantom Jr.?"

"I am Ghost Agent!" The child charged the elder halfa, "And you don't touch my dad!"

The other agents stopped shooting from sheer shock, gob-smacked looks directed at their commander. Agent I's sunglasses dropped to the floor as quickly as his jaw. Agent K glared at the ghost child as though he had bellowed his need to go potty in a crowded restaurant. Vlad sneered.

"And a bumbling, idiotic, ghost-hunting father. You really are Danny Phantom Jr."

"My dad's not an idiot and Danny Phantom is much better than you—agkh!" Ghost Agent struggled against the hand at his throat.

Fangs bared in a sadistic grin, Vlad dragged the child closer, hand glowing the color of lung-blood. "This may be difficult to comprehend child, but I've had over twenty years to perfect my powers."

Gold eyes widened.

"One of the techniques I've perfected is separating head from body with one hand," Vlad's ectoplasm took on a slightly redder cast. "And unlike dear Daniel," he leaned forward, his fangs inches from the other ghost's ear, "I don't care," his grip tightened, ectoplasm brightening, "About you."

Two green ectoblasts, one from Agent K and one from Danny Phantom slammed into Vlad. Ghost Agent dropped from his grasp, hands clutching the burns around his throat. Danny duplicated, coated one copy in floe-style ecto-ice and punched Vlad with an icy fist. The other copy took flight toward the nearest hospital.

Fentonworks weapons simulated the average ghost's ecto-blast. Against a human they did little more than shove that person over, leaving an ectoplasmic burn. Nothing that could kill or seriously injure.

GIW ectoranium bullets could destroy a powerful ghost with a single shot, making them more efficient. Unfortunately they could do the same to humans. The screams and worse the silences among the spectators were testimony to that.

Danny phased through the courtroom, two kidnapped EMTs in his arms. The second their feet touched the ground they dropped to their knees in front of the wounded, checking pulses, assisted by Team Phantom and the Fenton family when they found one. Tucker stitched up what wounds he could among those who weren't dying, working with Jazz. Sam assisted the EMTs with the dying. Danny froze wounds before they could bleed out completely while his parents laid down cover-fire.

As the other Danny pressed Vlad toward the witness stand, far away from everyone else, Ghost Agent got to his feet, one hand gently cradling his burnt throat. He stared at his father. "I…did good…dad…right?" Every word rasped painfully.

Agent K's jaw twitched. His glasses slid off. He couldn't muster a sound. With trembling hands he picked the glasses up and stared at them, then at the—unmistakably—ghost of his son. Breath wasn't getting into his lungs. Despair strangled him. Words couldn't escape. Sorrow burned in his jaw, in his eyes and he hastily slipped the glasses back on.

He could do this; he could force his leaden tongue to respond.

"Go."

Ghost Agent obeyed, leaving his father alone. Vlad saw his chance and leapt for the agent. Jack charged to protect a fellow father. Daniel phased back through the courthouse wall a second behind. Only Agent K was in the way and the GIW commander was nothing to him. His billions, his home, his Packers collection, his companies, his position in politics and all his future hopes and dreams died a swift and horrible death with one word.

But if he was damned either way, if he was to be hunted like an animal forever, he would have one thing. Vlad swooped toward the insignificant white suit. The GIW agent whipped around, gun aimed for the ghost…only for Plasmius to brush past him.

"No!"

Daniel had realized his target, but the young man was precious inches away. Jack Fenton raised a gun as oversized as himself, face unnaturally stony, finger curled around the trigger. Vlad never stopped. When one had the death penalty hanging over one's head anyway…well, why not?

Daniel was right behind him, a microsecond too slow. Jack Fenton's trigger finger was fast enough, his aim unusually good. The blast struck true, a blast every bit as powerful as his son could muster.

It wasn't enough.

Glowing claws ripped through Jack Fenton's throat.

"Jack!" Maddie's agonized cry was punctuated with her first, deadly shot that tore through his forehead and out the back of his skull, followed by a hail of ecto-blasts that ripped Vlad apart. Ghost and hunter fell to the ground limply.

Danny dove right into his father.

Overshadowing allowed a ghost to 'wear' a human much like a human would wear a set of clothes but Danny wanted more than that. He plunged his power through his father, clutching a hand to the slashed throat and freezing it over before the lethal wounds could bleed out. Maybe, if he fused his father with enough power, he would survive; but his dad still needed a doctor now!

"Danny!"

There was Tucker.

He didn't dare force a throat so badly damaged to speak, but Sam, who seemed to read his freaking mind, spoke for him. "Can you fix it?" she asked Tucker.

Tearing medical supplies out of his pack, Tucker answered. "Needs a real surgeon fast. With all these other patients, there's not one to spare. And Danny I think you're the only one that's keeping him alive right now. If you leave him for a second…"

"I'll get a doctor." Valerie appeared beside them just long enough to get the words out. Then she was gone.

Precious seconds passed. Red Huntress's upgraded armor could move nearly as fast as a race car and she was soaring as the crow flew. Less than a minute later she swooped into the courtroom, clutching an utterly terrified surgeon, stark-white gloves and mask already on. Jack's face was bloodless as a corpse by the time the surgeon's feet hit the ground again.

"Damn! Get me—"

"Here!" Tucker shoved medical supplies into the doctor's hands and threaded a needle as he struggled to save Jack's life.

"Could you remove the ice?"

Danny did so, never leaving his father.

"Keep him unconscious and perfectly still," the doctor ordered as he found the severed halves of Jack's carotid artery.

"What blood type is he?"

"O. Universal donor," Maddie said shakily, "Always gave…anyone else blood type O?" she shouted.

Silence. Then…

"I am," Imani Cheatham stepped forward despite scowls on everyone's faces. "Would you like my help or not?"

"Over here," Tucker ordered and prepped an IV.

"Why?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Despite what all the lawyer jokes would have you believe, I'm not a monster."

No one spoke; the only sound was a quick, careful needle piecing together the dearly parted and Jack's quick, panicked breaths.

Its okay dad, Danny thought. It'll be alright. Maybe telepathy was one of his powers, because his father suddenly relaxed.

The surgeon stopped his work.

"You can get out of him now Phantom," The doctor said. "You can't do anymore good there."

"Is he…going to live?" Danny asked carefully.

The surgeon stared at the family surrounding him, features softening behind his white mask, "I'm sorry, but there's nothing anyone can do for him anymore—."

"No," three sets of hands felt for a pulse.

"—Ripped right through the jugular, carotid and windpipe…at least it was quick."

No beat to be found. The doctor packed up his supplies and left, only for Danny to grab him. "Wait…wait, wait this can't be…he…"

"There are other patients still fighting for their lives. _They_ need me." More softly he added, "Please."

Danny's grasp slackened.

"No trace of The Wisconsin Ghost anywhere. The energy just dissipated." Agent J reported, limping toward his commander and the fallen father.

"What the hell happened?" Asked agent K.

Understanding dawned in the Maddie's wet eyes as she turned away from her husband. "A duplicate." She had seen Danny accomplish the feat enough times. Her voice hardened. "He's still out there."

"I hadn't realized that power could be used as a lure," Agent K commented deceptively calm.

"Plasmius," Danny snarled the name, eyes blazing with venom, "Has always been a manipulative bastard with decades to practice his ghost powers." Voice breaking, he added, "And he's always…always wanted…to kill dad." Danny sank to his knees. "I never should have let him in here."

"It's not your fault sweetie—" Maddie knelt by her son.

The GIW turned on him. "You mean you knew this was going to happen? You've conspired to help the other halfa! Arrest him."

"Never!" Danny bellowed.

"How dare you!" Maddie snapped, shooting to her feet, body trembling from the restraint needed not to break the disgusting agent herself. "Not another word out of you. If you hadn't been shooting up people with your damn ectoranium bullets and aimed them at the _real_ threat this wouldn't have happened!"

"How touching," Agent K sneered, "But in case you haven't noticed it's a halfa's fault your husband is dead and now your son is missing?"

"Oh no."

* * *

As Vlad calmly walked invisibly in human form away from the court-house, a sudden weight hit him, arms seized him and when he attempted intangibility another countered it. Only one other could…

"Daniel, what are you doing—?" Then he got a better look at the man he wanted as a son. Teeth bared—were those fangs?—eyes blazing like twin portals to death, the very air itself freezing sweat to ice with an aura of chilly power. When he spoke, it reverberated painfully like his ghostly wail.

"You murdered dad."

"Oh did I?" Vlad said, deliberately careless and cheerful. "Well good for me. At least one thing went right." He slipped out of the hold.

Vlad knew, just as Danny did, that taunting an opponent threw them off balance. He expected the blind rage and blinding speed, even the icy armor which didn't slow his opponent down at all and had a shield ready to counter.

He didn't expect just how much power he was forced to counter. Daniel hit him like a truck at a Ferrari's speed. Deflecting the blow still staggered Vlad off balance even as he fired an ecto-blast with his other hand.

But Daniel had improved, duplicating and allowing the pink flash to pass harmlessly between two of him. Vlad duplicated into four, two of his duplicates harassing the Phantoms with quick, cutting blows while Plasmius made his getaway before any other ghost-hunters showed up.

Green energy slammed to the ground in front of his face. He face-planted. A portable ghost shield, quite possibly the same one that once surrounded Amity's courtroom trapped them. Daniel's voice reverberated with such blind madness the trap trembled.

"You don't get to leave."

Vlad picked himself up slowly. Fangs bared, eyes blazing red, ecto-energy covering his whole body like armor, Vlad turned back toward Danny. "Very well," he snarled, "No more Mr. Nice—"

Danny's icy blade nearly cleaved him in two. Once more Vlad shrank back from features frozen in wrath.

Dear Madeline was undoubtedly far more skilled, but her son was a credit to her. Three, nearly four years now, had tempered and sharpened the foolish young Fenton spawn who simply charged him with fists like his fat oaf of a father. Once the first flush of battle-rage passed, the younger halfa switched to wide-spread blasts of ectoplasm to negate Vlad's greater numbers. The weather ghost was more powerful; that plant-manipulating ghost more invulnerable—and Pariah Dark had been a true overwhelming force—but Daniel used his power intelligently.

Including refraining from that ghostly wail of his, which would have shattered the ghost shield like a wine glass before an Opera singer. But Vlad had the experience. He split his first duplicate into dozens of shadow copies to harass the young Phantom, turned himself invisible, intangible and useless to strike against. And that was only the first two copies. Like a god he shifted the other two into monstrous forms. The strain of using so many powers at once would have been too much for Daniel, but not for him.

"You forget Daniel," he bared all his teeth in challenge as the final two duplicates morphed, hands and claws glowing with eerie energy. "When we fought before, I held _back_!"

* * *

Danny was forced to give ground to the elder halfa. He had fought more powerful in Pariah, Vortex and even that Gandalf-wannabe. He had crossed weapons with more skilled in Fright Knight. Icenight was far better at applying her powers. But Vlad was still a few very large leaps ahead of him in the using powers department. Danny dodged six ectoplasmic swords at once, only for five massive talons to gouge vulnerable flesh. Hot bloody tears spilled down his cheek.

The shadow duplicates were too many and too swift to be avoided, so Danny bore their strikes as a honey badger bore bee stings. Against another duplicate, he had bigger problems. The copy's bone-shard tipped tail whipped toward his chest. He blocked with an icy shield bit the bone spear slammed straight through, it's point cracking a spider web through the face of his helmet. Twisting the shield, the superhero forced the tail down, jerking the demonic dragon off balance for a second. Then the creature pounced, claws open, teeth bared and horns lowered, forcing Danny to dodge or be shredded. His armor couldn't take that.

It could barely take the torrent of ectoplasm the six-armed Vlad rained down on him. No regular ecto-blasts either. The six swords morphed into other blades. Knives of ghostly energy and bright-pink animated velociraptors would have killed three times over if Danny hadn't kept the dragon-duplicate between him and them. The monster got to its feet, yanked its tail out and smoothly dodged just as a sword-whip of ectoplasm struck his armor. An invisible fist slammed into the back of his helmeted head as he reeled away.

Vlad's skills only reminded Danny of just how far he had to go…and gave him some ideas on how to improve.

But his father's murderer would not leave freely. Even if he had to withstand an onslaught from Pariah Dark and his army again, Danny was not going to let Vlad go. Using so many powers at once was (he hoped) more of a strain than sticking to simple ice and waiting his opponent out. Cold bubbled up his throat. Catching the invisible duplicate with his shield, Danny flung it into a sabertooth tiger of pink energy before bringing his shield up to halt another facial makeover. Enormous claws raked great gouges in the ice. Just wait him out, Danny thought, and then—a wellspring of power spurred by anger boiled inside him— _then_ he would strike. So the superhero stuck with blades and shield and two duplicates back to back against the horde Vlad had turned himself into, taking blow and gash, letting the elder halfa wear himself to exhaustion. The tip of another claw caught his jaw, just above his throat. Millimeters from death.

All he had to do was withstand the onslaught.

* * *

Vlad couldn't believe it. He threw everything he knew, everything he could possibly do at Daniel. The younger halfa couldn't retaliate, wasn't even able to shoot an ecto-blast from a pinkie when he had to fight with all his skill and experience just to keep himself alive. Didn't bother trying an offensive. Yet though he could beat Daniel back, surround him, break down his armor into useless shards and tear at his flesh, he couldn't win. The ghost shield kept him from fleeing and the younger halfa barely managed to evade every killing blow.

Worse, the drain from using so many powers all at once was getting too much. Draining him like one last pound piled atop a thousand on a bench-pressing machine. As efficient as he had become with power, he lacked the raw ectoplasmic ability to keep up such a tactic. But Vlad could see Daniel's plan, to let himself bleed out his power with this display.

Vlad didn't admit such a plan might be successful, but he did switch tactics. Shifting back to one being, Vlad delivered a mid-air kick impossible for a human. Daniel stepped away—reacting faster than usual—grabbed the leg as it passed and twisted, slamming the elder halfa to the ground…

…or trying to. Vlad wrapped an arm around him, then another. The angle was too awkward to strangle, but he pressed into the vulnerable throat anyway, claws glowing. They both fell and both hovered to stop falling. Locked as two wrestlers, Vlad tried again for his opponent's throat. Daniel grabbed the offending hand and twisted it into a wrist-lock. Vlad phased out of the hold and dodged another strike. They parted.

For a moment.

Again, Daniel struck first with ecto-blasts, encasing himself in another set of icy armor as Vlad ducked. He duplicated, this time to a mere six shadow clones while his original self went invisible. He could do the 'letting his opponent wear himself down' trick too.

Daniel sunk glowing green claws into one shadow, tearing out its throat before it could flinch, but the others moved warily in pairs, striking in tandem and whichever he went for retreated. Rage built in the young man as shadow after shadow evaded him and Vlad's rushing heart slowed with confidence. He would win this. Despite the imprisoning ghost shield, he would see freedom.

Suddenly as one of the shadows evaded an icy blade Daniel swerved unexpectedly, a plume of mist escaping his lips. Vlad leapt away, turning intangible but not in time to completely avoid a visible spurt of blood from a new wound. He merged with his remaining shadow duplicates and duplicated again. This time only into three invisible copies—that was enough—and tried to overwhelm the younger halfa's ghost sense.

A microsecond before landing a punch, Daniel dodged, another icy wisp leaving his mouth like breath. The superhero slammed a shoulder into the duplicate, ducked beneath his arm and twisted the invisible copy's limb, rendering it an immobile shield. Vlad didn't dare use ecto-blasts, which would give him away faster than any ghost sense, but hitting his own duplicate would injure him worse than Daniel would.

Vlad still got a few blows in, risked an ecto-blast that burned the younger in the back, another smashed shoulder that cracked spiky armor, but hitting the ice hurt him more than his opponent. What he would not have given to have a corresponding elemental. Invisibility wasn't enough of an advantage. Taking the high air, Vlad re-appeared and fired a hail of ectoplasm at Daniel.

Now the younger halfa duplicated, all the duplicates clad in icy armor and charged recklessly into the rain of ecto-blasts. Unlike every other time, Vlad held nothing back, aiming for the head, the throat, the chest with blasts sharp enough and dense enough to kill. One Daniel duplicate reeled back, eyes half-burnt pits from a well-placed ecto-blast; another staggered as pink energy burned a gaping hole through it's knee. When a third was close enough, Vlad slashed for the meagerly protected throat.

"Going to die like your father," Vlad taunted.

Daniel's restraint died in a blaze of ectoplasmic wrath. Icy blades carved through his duplicate. One was sliced cleanly in half with a sword long as a Claymore, wide as a Gladius. The man he wanted as son brushed past it without a thought. After all these years the younger halfa finally fought with the ruthlessness and pragmatic brutality Vlad had always tried to instill in him.

Directed at him.

And Daniel wasn't stopping. Vlad's next ectoplasmic rain was a drizzle. When he dodged, Daniel still carved a line of pain across his chest. He lagged in a way that had nothing to do with a shortness of breath as the battle began taking its toll. The sheer variety of powers he'd used—failed—to overwhelm the other halfa with had sapped his strength like a swift mile run. Yet now that he was conserving himself and Daniel was going increasingly all-out, the younger should have begun feeling the strain. Should be slowing, his blows weakening as wounds and lack of energy crippled him.

Covered in ecto-burns as much as armor, bleeding from dozens of wounds, shrugging off blows that Vlad knew from terrible personal experience should have downed him, Daniel kept fighting. He should be struggling on one leg, unable to use the other arm, yet somehow his younger opponent could feel no pain in his berserk rage.

Ice-age cold permeated pleasant spring air, blades re-made themselves as quickly as Vlad blasted them off. Hails of icy arrows and spears tore at his shields, each time freezing them larger, sharper, more. Daniel took the high air in a brutal conquest and Vlad, original and remaining duplicates were forced to fall, pumping more power into his shield just to stay alive. Sweat beaded again on his forehead, freezing almost instantly. Using the minimum power to preserve his life as the foolish young man wore himself out, Vlad could still feel the strain.

Except Daniel's attacks only grew stronger.

"Perhaps I should start on your friends next? If damned either way I might as well do," he taunted.

But such comments only fueled the growing wellspring of power within Daniel. Far beyond the point when he should have collapsed, Danny tore into another copy, burying both swords deep into ectoplasm and yanking outward simultaneously. Though only a duplicate, Vlad swore he felt the ghosts of such blades in himself as ropey entrails spilled forth. Like chess pieces the elder moved another in place of the vanquished one, taking its fading power into himself and managing another copy, one of shadow.

The shadow one reeled back, an icy spear in its eye before Daniel's brutal stroke lopped off its head. Vlad took the opening, mustering another ecto-blast as his last duplicate plunged an ectoplasmic sword through his enemy's chest. Vlad did not hesitate to inflict such a lethal blow, not when his life was on the line but before he could direct the duplicate to slice his sword free Daniel grabbed it. Heedless of any pain, he plunged both icy hands into the third copy, freezing it from the inside out.

With superhuman speed Daniel hurtled the duplicate toward the original. A flash of green shattered it and again Vlad had to shield a hail of ice. The last duplicate either of them had. No one and nothing stood between himself and the blizzard of supernatural fury Daniel had become.

The younger halfa's torso inflated ominously despite the ectoplasmic blade jutting out of it. Vlad had experienced the imminent paranormal force only twice before and this time he was trapped...

…but if he could withstand it, the ghostly wail would shatter the ghost shield and he could escape. His last chance. With hands over his ears, his remaining ectoplasmic power an opaque dome, Vlad braced himself.

What escaped was no mere wail.

This was a scream torn from a throat by cruel tragedy. A scream that could not be channeled into a word. No word existed in all known languages to capture such grief. This was a howl of anguish that drowned Harry Potter's sorrow for Sirius. The scream of 'you killed my father, prepare to die!' This cry shattered stone hearts. Its volume and power a lamination for the dead and gone. The screamer a mere conduit of pure anguish.

Tangible sorrow and agony poured from Daniel's throat in form of resonating green rings. The agony of seeing his father struck down. Love transformed to pain. The ghost shield couldn't withstand such an onslaught. Torn apart molecule by molecule. Vlad couldn't withstand such an onslaught. It broke his best shield like fine china flung in a fit of anger. Reverberation ripped over him, into him, stripping Vlad of his power like hooked talons pulling flayed flesh off bone—until he was nothing more than a frail human.

* * *

By the time Danny was finished being the mouthpiece of the Thing he'd voiced, transformation rings had engulfed him, making him human. On hands and knees he trembled, blood dripping off his body like rain off a thunderhead. His throat felt like he'd gargled obsidian shards.

He was still better than Vlad. The elder halfa was unmoving, in human form, blood flowing from nose, from ears, even from glassy eyes. Chunks of his hair had been simply ripped off along with chunks of his suit and his limbs lay awkwardly. His enemy looked as though he'd been swept up in a level five tornado.

For a brief, horrible moment Danny feared he'd committed murder.

Shaky fingers on a throat revealed an equally shaky pulse.

And Danny, who thought he had drained himself of every spark of emotion with that wail, felt a spark of anger land on a pile of gunpowder. How _dare_ Vlad still have a pulse when he'd felt for his dad's and hadn't found one?

He hadn't committed murder.

He desperately wanted to. Hand glowing green, he wrapped trembling fingers around Vlad's throat.

Vlad didn't deserve his pulse.

"Danny?"

His head snapped up to the familiar form of Red Huntress, staring down. "Don't," he spoke with raw, bleeding pain. Danny shook his head. "Not you. Not after."

"I understand vengeance," Valerie whispered harshly, descending to him. She spared Vlad a scowl. "I wouldn't blame you, if you did. I'd do it in your place. And I won't tell a soul either way."

Given the green light by his friend, hands wrapped around Vlad's throat, thoughts a tornado of uncertainty centered around an eye of rage, his own damnable words came to him: "And if there's one thing you have taught me, it's that vengeance is a slippery slope."

"I want to." He fell to his knees, releasing Vlad. "I want to. I want to! I want to! He killed dad!" Valerie knelt down next to him, carefully, gently pulling him into a hug. Green blood staining her armor. "He wasn't supposed to die." Danny whispered. "Not like this."

Vlad's eyes snapped open.

Instantly huntress and ghost hero aim ectoplasm at him. "Don't move," Valerie ordered. Vlad obeyed because every line in their taunt bodies, especially Daniel, said they would love to kill him right now. If he gave either of them an excuse…well Daniel's restraint was as weak as gossamer strands against a blizzard.

"Freeze!" Agent I shouted.

"No you idiot, not freeze, not literally." Agent K had been encased in ice one too many times after barking that order.

"What do you think we're doing," Vlad said through clenched teeth.

"You are under arrest for murder!"

"Actually we are the ones allowed to arrest him," Chief Bordon said, slowing to a stop, panting. "You are under arrest for the murder of Jack Fenton."

Vlad wanted to smile. One thing had gone right today. But he knew if his lips twitched Daniel would turn him full-ghost on the spot. He would be _lucky_ to make it into the GIW's safe clutches.

"My client pleads insanity!" Imani Cheatham gave him a glare that booked no arguments and said he'd better be doing something insane right now.

I'd like to, Vlad thought, but that will get me killed. He aimed a glance at the barely contained Daniel Fenton.

"No! We are not going through this farce again! He's guilty!" Agent K bellowed, grabbing Vlad and hauling him to his feet.

Vlad found his chance. Vanishing, he prayed Daniel didn't have enough left to go after him. Once more he overshadowed Agent K—who hadn't bothered or been able to get another spectre deflector—but this time with the greatest care, sneaking into the body. Vlad was too tired to take control of the GIW agent. Instead he rested his incorporeal form inside the man's head like a weary traveler collapsing in the back-seat of another's car, content to let someone else do the driving.

Agent K waved his hand at the space where Vlad had been, then gaped at Danny. The force of his glare nearly popped his sunglasses off.

"You helped him escape!"

 **A/N:** Holy shit! I can't believe I actually killed someone! And Jack of all people! I was going to write Jack as hurt-but-alive but then I thought…you know, a torn throat isn't very survivable even if your son has superpowers. Once it entered my mind to kill him, I decided to go on ahead and do so. He's not the only death either. That court-room was packed with people and the GIW shot ectoranium bullets, resulting in a blood-bath.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Wow! Thank you so much for all your reviews and support! This was honestly a tough chapter to stop writing but on the plus side you're getting an extra-long chapter. There was just so much to put in this and I kept on adding and expanding. Anyway, enjoy Danny being repeatedly rung out like a well-used tissue until there's nothing left.

 **Precarious**

"I don't think Amity Park has been this peaceful in years." Jazz shattered the deathly silence of Fentonworks as she entered, retracting the Fenton Peeler and shaking her empty thermos. "Shows just how much influence Plasmius had over ghosts."

A spark of life flickered in Danny's eyes. "Any sign of his stooges?"

"Not so much as a green feather," Jazz said. "We ran into a lost ghost and one who recently died—"

Danny whipped around, wincing as dozens of injuries shocked him but focused on his sister. Their mother had suddenly appeared from the lab to the living room, her face mirroring the strain in her son's voice. "Was it—?"

Jazz's expression answered. "No, not him." Danny's face plummeted and Maddie vanished again. "One of the others…from the courthouse. I saw her off." Jazz sat beside her brother, carefully avoiding the sagging dent in the middle of the couch. "Would you prefer dad to…come back?"

"I…don't know," Danny said softly. "In some ways…it would be nice. I'd like to…apologize, tell him goodbye at least." He shrugged, wincing when the motion aggravated more wounds. "You?"

"Depends on how he came back. If he was still dad," she avoided her brother's gaze. "He couldn't live with us because the GIW would be able to legally murder him. But if he came back as obsessive as…err Skulker that would be psychologically traumatizing for everyone." Danny winced. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Danny joked hollowly.

Jazz rolled her eyes. "You look like a mummy. Danny without all those doctors on hand—" she fell silent blaming her brother too late.

Danny sighed, "I know I'm lucky to live and develop the scars for it," he interrupted.

"I'm only afraid to lose you too Danny."

Wrapped in green-stained white bandages nearly from head to toe, two limbs in bracers, Danny felt his sister's fear. Deep within his chest pounded pain to the drum of his heart. Vlad's ectoplasmic sword had sliced straight through him, missing his heart, his lungs, his spine by millimeters. During the battle, he hadn't even felt it. Afterwards, just before the sword dissipated, his heart burned with each brush of pulsing flesh against blade.

He had to stop his hand from turning intangible to check. "Has mom ever gone with you?" he asked.

"No. I think she's more afraid of running into dad's ghost."

If Danny strained his ears, he could pick up faint drilling and cracks as his mom worked alone in the lab for the first time.

"—Still the biggest news story of the country," Lance Thunder reported. "The Masters trial Massacre where revealed half-ghost, half-human Vlad Masters Plasmius—"

A growl bubbled like acid in Danny's sore throat, his focus on the television screen. On the picture of the man who murdered his father.

Vlad.

"—Jack Fenton, father of Danny Fenton, the infamous superhero Danny Phantom, was far from the only casualty."

Already Fentonworks felt emptier, tomb-like. Jack Fenton had left a black hole when Vlad tore him from life. No more boisterous clanking around the kitchen fridge, the door wasn't slammed open, leaving yet another dent in the drywall. Not even an echo of his excited babble remained. The coffee table was littered with sketches and plans no one could bring themselves to move…as though Jack would come thundering down the stairs at any moment wondering where he'd put that whatchamacallit.

"—Nearly a hundred people were injured and six others died, mostly due to ectoranium bullet use, a controversial weapon against ghosts. I am here with Agent C of the GIW. Agent C, what is your stance on the ectoranium bullets."

"Obviously every life lost in any ghost attack is a tragedy; and Agent K will certainly be re-taking marksmanship tests. However the fault does not lie within these guns any more than any other tool. Ectoranium bullets are an unfortunate necessity to stop powerful ghosts such as Vlad Plasmius. After all he had murdered one innocent man before even Danny Phantom—" the remote slipped out of twitching fingers, "—could stop him. Had we retaliated merely with Fentonworks ecto-weaponry likely no one would have left that courthouse alive."

"What of Cho Li, one of our camerawomen and one of several victims killed by ectoranium bullet."

"We of the GIW offer our most sincerest apologies to everyone who was injured or killed in this ghost attack. The unfortunate circumstances of the Masters trial Massacre only underline the need for ghost hunters and revealed the depravity half-ghost individuals such as Vlad Plasmius succumb to without measures to police their behavior."

"What are you implying?"

"That something must be done to accommodate half-ghost individuals so that they may be productive members of society—"

"Such as Danny Phantom."

"Yes," Agent C reluctantly agreed. "Instead of destructive members of society as we have seen any half-ghost may do. Furthermore this underlines the fact that civilians should never attempt to fight ghosts themselves. Such dangerous jobs should be left to professionals such as the GIW—"

Danny lurched for the remote, only to hiss as hewn muscles protested. "I'll get it," Jazz smashed the off button. The television's dead silence was just as poor a distraction from reality.

"Something I've noticed among people is that we would rather believe we have some power to change things and take the guilt—then realize we are completely helpless to change things," Jazz observed conversationally. "Better guilt than helplessness." She handed the remote back. "You aren't a god Danny. Sometimes you're just as human and helpless as the rest of us."

"I'm heading to bed. Might as well get some sleep while I can," Danny gripped the sofa arm to brace himself.

"Do you need any help?"

"I'm good. Why don't you," bug, "check on mom." Danny limped up the stairs like a dying man.

* * *

For years Sam, Tucker and Danny had been a trio: playing, working, eating and even sleeping together. After Danny's accident the secret of Team Phantom only bound them more closely—and shoved other people away. Even after everyone knew, popularity isolated and bound them. Going to school without Danny had been like leaving a limb behind, so they were relieved to see him back even if he still looked like a hundred miles of bad road.

Fresh stitches and scars could be seen peaking around his black turtleneck. One knee still needed a brace and an eye was patched. Tucker shook his head. "Dude, all you need is a parrot and you could be pirate Phantom."

Danny smiled weakly. Tucker's humor was relieving among the stares of the entire school: cautious, pitying, frightened. Unnerved to see their hero brought down to mortality.

"A Study in Scarlet Mr. Fenton! As glad as I am to see you back at school are you sure you wouldn't like another day off," Mr. Lancer asked.

"I'd prefer to be here," Danny said.

"That would be a first," Mr. Lancer commented under his breath. In a louder voice he asked, "But how are you really?"

"My dad died at the hands of my enemy, whose massacre is the talk of every television channel, radio station and internet thread." Danny said caustically. "I'm fine."

Their English teacher flinched. "The world can do without Danny Phantom for a few more days, especially during these peaceful times."

"Don't tempt the universe," Danny grumbled, "Besides you agreed to this. You came over to my house just to hammer out an agreement about this."

"I did. Perhaps that was a mistake. Despite your dark warning words I was guilty for being swept up in the glamour of the superhero. You always seemed to shrug everything off."

"Sorry to disappoint." Suddenly cold bubbled in Danny's throat, escaping in an icy mist.

"I'm sure you can ignore that," Lancer said quickly.

Gunfire shattered such folly. Danny's rings snapped around him reflexively, adrenaline masking his pain. Despite the wounds, he was at the school's entrance as though he'd teleported. Several teens clutched guns with neither the competency of his mom, nor the familiarity of the GIW.

Three gun barrels turned toward him.

"Chill out!"

And froze just as quickly, but Danny's attention was focused on the ghost hovering above the shooters, yawning maw gaping in ecstasy like Spectra…and a massive man lying still behind a toppled chair.

For a moment Danny thought the ghost was Fright Knight—crazy-powered up Fright Knight, but he had the black armor. Then the mouth shut and the ghost rose to its full height. Blood-red eyes re-kindled the spark of anger in his heart. Armor and what looked like a sabertooth tiger version of Hercules's Nemean Lion skin gave still more bulk to a figure only slightly smaller than Vortex.

Typical: another ghostly god. Also typical: one he didn't recognize. Danny had studied up on mythology, as it had the uncomfortable habit of haunting his reality, but there were millions of mythical figures to learn.

"Danny Phantom, how predictable. I hope the elder halfa hasn't beaten all of the fight out of you."

That kindled spark grew. This wasn't Vlad but the urge to punch him in the face until he shut up flamed. A curse snapped him out of his growing anger. One of the kids. Only then did he feel pricks of pain against his palms from crushing his fingers into white-knuckled fists. Getting the kids away from the feeding, dangerous ghost took priority.

He just had to remember that.

"Is that all it took," the ghost whispered to Danny's retreating back as he phased the kids and wounded out of the room. "One little beating and killing that useless lump of a father—"

Vlad had used those insults so many times Danny had almost grown deaf to them. Now they pained him like gunshots against a blown eardrum, each one drowning a wound in salt-water. Plasmius was not repeating those poisonous insults to a dead man, but this ghost was close enough. The school's secretary, lying in a pool of his own blood, not nearly as large as Danny's dad, was also close enough.

Danny iced over the hole and duplicated, one duplicate flying the man to the nearest hospital. Leaving the other free.

With a roar of rage a blizzard of ice slammed into the ghost, followed by Danny's fist. He turned them both intangible and flew out of the school, but when he tried to twist the other ghost's arm like he'd done with Vlad, he found himself into a headlock. Tucking his chin and gripping the other's arm, he flung the ghost over his shoulder.

"Not bad for the freakish son of a failed oaf."

Danny's vision tunneled. In anger's haze those red eyes, the saber-fangs of its kill framing a corpse-blue face, the slightly curved horns of its helmet gave the ghost Vlad's appearance. How _dare_ he say such things about the man he murdered. His duplicate returned, re-merging and empowering him. Deathly green lit the sky. Danny forgot his wounds, didn't feel the tear of flesh or stitches as armored fists hit, nor the bite of the other man's sword. Wrath was a better pain reliever than anything else as bones cracked and blood flowed. Those taunts echoed in his ears, switching from insulting his dad to cracks about how weak a failure he was, only rarely silenced by a gratifying blast to the ghost's mouth.

Until a voice slipped through the storm of fury in his mind. "Danny woah! Danny dude you've got to calm down!" Tucker shouted.

"It's feeding off your anger; it's getting stronger with your wrath! I think it's some kind of war ghost," Sam added.

A denial was on his tongue when the sword caught his eye. The skin of an ancient predator, the horned helmet, the feeding…his friends might not be wrong. Blind fury faded just enough for Danny to see a little better, like he'd needed glasses and someone had finally slipped a decent pair over his eyes.

"No words? Did I rip your throat out?"

It's speech was painful, the tone and pronunciation somehow more insulting than Vlad could ever make, but Danny could see through the agony just enough. Locking his muscles and not attacking took all the strength of Atlas, but a few seconds of peace gave him enough control to think.

His friends were right; it fed from anger.

That realization helped. A little. Danny took a deep breath—the next strike cut him off, claws brushing his throat, leaving behind lines of pain.

"Or maybe Vlad should have ripped your throat out? Like father, like son…at least no one would have to deal with a failure."

Come on Phantom, pun master here, make it funny. Fight back. "Failure? Don't sell me short I'm a professional failure, just ask my teachers."

The ghost twitched but Danny didn't give it a chance to say another word, "But hey you're the one who can't hit this failure. Some war ghost."

"Not bad—"

"Are you here for my anger management? Because I'll have to flunk you for—," Another missed blast slammed into a car, setting off the horn. "Too little bang and too much bleep." Danny grimaced as the quick movement reminded him of all his injuries…including the brand new ones.

The ghost's next sword-strike swept by so close it carved a gouge on the side of his head…maybe into his skull. "You could at least carry an ax. I know loads of ax puns. What am I supposed to say about a sword?" Not a sliver of his smile reached his eyes as he patted his chest, atop his deepest wound. "It gets me, right here."

Like Vortex and Undergrowth this creature easily shrugged off his ecto-blast. Sam and Tucker's shots weren't making a dent. But it reeled when a gunshot rang out.

GIW, Danny thought.

That newbie partner of Agent K's stood, gun aimed at the ghost. Ectoranium bullets were to ghosts as regular bullets were to humans, they could insta-kill if they hit a ghostly core…or they could make the ghost really, really angry.

Agent I had prime GIW marksmanship.

"Look out!" Danny shielded the agent as the war ghost dove after him. The agent pulled the trigger again.

Danny swore. The bullet tore through his ectoplasmic shield and the war ghost hurtled a spear of energy through the weak point. The shield collapsed. Wind cut into wounds new and old as he flew past the war ghost, plunged into the agent and phased them both through the ground.

The ghost vanished.

Phasing through the road and stepping out of the body, Danny was hit by the familiar metallic stench of blood and agony, like his fight against Vlad. "Oh shit."

He fell to the ground, legs unable to support him, let alone the weight of a fully-grown man. "You…alright," Danny gasped to the Agent beside him.

A gaping, bloody hole told all. Danny swore. "Damn it! What's wrong with me?" Not even Spectra had made him feel so awful. "I can't even save—woah?"

Ghosts occasionally formed fast in Amity, but this was a record. Agent I, purple haired and glowing orange eyes floated above the dead body, patting his chest. "Wow that was a close one."

"Too close," Danny added, pointing at the body.

"Oh hell no!" Agent I gaped at his fleshly body, then his ghostly one. "I can't be a ghost, it's against regulations!" He slumped in mid-air. "I'm so fired for this." Another realization struck him. "Oh holy shit I'm evil. I'm gonna start killing people. It's only a matter of time. Get away! Get away from me!" The former GIW member screamed at the lingering bystanders and lunged for his own ecto-pistol.

"No—agh!" Danny yanked the gun away. Bad move. Throbs of agony from twenty different places described in rock-concert decibel voices just how bad a move. He clutched a nearby van to keep from face-planting into asphalt. Sweat burned every open cut and gash. What an inspiring figure he must cut.

"Look I get that this is the worst day of your existence," he gasped, "But being a ghost does not make you evil."

"But it could!" Agent I faced him seriously. "Are you willing to take that chance? You can barely hold yourself up, let alone stop me."

The truth stung. "Don't count me out yet," Danny snapped. "And we have prisons that can hold you during your morality crisis." He grabbed the gun. "Come on. I can help you."

"Like you did just now," Agent I turned away from his corpse. "I can't. Look I'm sorry, I really am…" he bolted for his truck and phased an arm through. Danny tried to move. Run. Fly. But the instant he let go of the van his knees hit asphalt. Agony hit one joint like he'd landed on a railroad spike. A sharp, ear-splitting crack woke him from the pain. The former GIW agent slumped over dead.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Danny shouted at the commanding Agent.

Agent K didn't even blink. "He's a ghost. I signed up to deal with ghosts and that is how to deal with them."

"For someone who hates ghosts so much, you're awfully defensive of your son."

The man's trigger finger twitched. He dearly wanted to shoot Danny and damn the law. "I joined the GIW for my son's sake. A ghost killed him, just like a ghost killed your father."

* * *

"Dad?"

Danny followed the flash of icy blue on instinct. Large. Humanoid maybe? His core sped up. Could it be? If his dad came back as a ghost wouldn't he be: light blue instead of bright orange. Flying faster—not too fast. As quickly as he healed, two fights with… _him_ and the war ghost had taken its toll. He could barely out-fly a bike without a painful reminder of his body's limits.

This ghost's flight wobbled as though he wasn't practiced with weightlessness. A word caught in Danny's throat. Hope swelled his heart. He pushed himself just a little faster, the pain dulling.

"Dad."

The ghost must have heard him, because he suddenly turned around. Those glowing green eyes were at once familiar and strange but so like his, down to the glimmer of hope against hope. That girth, that white and black hair, also inverted. Glowing green eyes, wide jaw.

"Dad!"

"Son?"

An unrecognizable voice. Now that he was closer Danny could see his eyes were a touch too far apart, nose too broad. Danny's core collapsed, leaving his dangling like the ghost of a ghost. His voice was nearly unrecognizable, wet and nasily like someone trying to speak after a good cry. "Sorry."

"No, I am sorry. My mistake." The new ghost's voice was almost an echo of his own sadness. His hand on Danny's shoulder was gentle and reassuring but fresh wounds still burned from his touch. "I don't suppose you know my son? About your age…died in a car wreck? Our family name was Clark."

"Sorry," Danny said sincerely.

The hand dropped. "Well I knew it was a long shot. If you aren't too busy could you help me further? You see I've…well I'm quite certain I've been murdered."

Danny nodded, straightening a little, "Yeah, sorry to hear that. Seems like there's too much murder going around." Too much he couldn't stop.

"As there always will be so long as murderers are around. It wasn't your fault."

Hoarsly, Danny changed subjects. "Come with me, I'll take you to the police."

"The police can…help with such things?"

"Amity Park's Police Department does."

With ghosts not only a reality but an everyday occurrence, dead people literally telling tales became a possibility. One of Chief Bordon's many changes was giving murdered people the right and ability to self-report the crime.

"Thanks Phantom," Bordon nodded to the ghost. "If I'm not mistaken he's the ghost of a homicide victim so this might just help us close the case."

"You're welcome."

"And in the spirit of that cooperation you might want to just give the next one directions," Bordon pointed to the nearest television screen.

Someone had managed to snap a picture of Danny holding Agent I's lifeless body last week, bloody hole damnably visible through his chest; suit more red and green than white. The GIW had cried murder; thanks to them the victim's ghost couldn't speak up.

"I hate to bear bad news." She glanced at the leg dangling limply, the arm he kept cradled to his side. "Especially since you of all people don't deserve it right now but if things keep going like this the GIW might force us to arrest you."

The superhero hung there silently.

"I don't want that. We've had too many people die not to appreciate the difference you make. People like you save those who would have died. A school shooting happened in Amity Park and nobody died. Thanks to you."

"Yeah, but it's the ones who die who mean the most." Danny flew away, continuing his patrol.

Sam's voice startled him out of his funk. "Any sign of the GIW?" She asked through her com-link. "I figured they'd be out in force after Vlad fled."

Tucker, hearing that through the Fenton Phones from back at Fentonworks, frowned and began searching through radio and com signals. Maddie passed by the room, not even glancing his way. Her footsteps sounded alien, like a keyboard without a monitor, a computer running only on hardware.

He picked up on something.

"—probably in Wisconsin if he's not out of the country by now," Agent Y remarked.

"I don't care; proceed as if he's waiting for you with an army of ghosts. The GIW can't afford to lose more assets," Agent L ordered.

Carefully Agent K turned the microphone away. "Assets, that makes me feel all warm and tingly inside," he grumbled.

"Still no signs of life…or death. Fan out."

"Confiscate everything of use," Agent L said. "Agent F, does your team have the explosives ready?"

"Why couldn't I be Agent G?"

"Are the explosives _ready_ Agent F."

"Yes sir! Ready to activate at your command sir."

"That's what I like to hear."

"That's not what I like to hear," Tucker muttered to himself. "Danny I tapped into their coms. The GIW have explosives and I'd bet my PDA they're breaking into Vlad's mansion."

"You don't think they're going to try blowing up the ghost zone again? My…parents' research proves what would happen if they tried and I know they've read that."

"It's the GIW, what do you think?"

"I'm on my way."

"Be careful dude, these are the guys who would grab any excuse to throw you in a lab. If you so much as squint with the scary eyes…"

"I'll be cautious." Flying to the mansion, Danny dialed one of his newer contacts.

Miles away, an exasperated young woman unglued her eyelids at the sound of her phone.

"Hey Val, I know I'm not in a position to ask for favors but I…I really do need your help. It's the GIW. They're raiding Vlad's mansion."

"Let 'em."

"With explosives."

"Let 'em."

"They might blow up the ghost zone."

"Let—ugh, this is a save the world thing isn't it?"

"You're officially a superhero, you don't get ass-crack of dawn calls for anything else," Danny confirmed.

"Alright, I'm heading over to the mansion now."

Danny reached the mansion a little slower than he would have liked. Just before phasing through the mansion, he stopped at a white van. Just as well, he nearly ran into an agent in the entryway. She brought up her gun.

Hefting the GIW-issue net gun over his less-injured shoulder and firing, Danny entangled the agent in the same mess of ecto-energy cord he normally had to fight through one too many times. Danny wasn't so virtuous that he didn't appreciate the irony.

"Damn it! We're not about to destroy the ghost zone! I read your parents reports on what an idiot idea that would be!" Agent Y shouted.

"So what are you up to?"

"Cutting off Vlad's portal."

"That doesn't sound like a good idea either, all that energy has to go somewhere."

"Evacuate the building!" Agent Y bellowed in her com-link.

"You've already placed the bombs," Danny concluded with resignation.

Agent Y didn't waste time arguing; the second her legs were free she left as fast as they could take her.

"Valerie, the bombs are in the lab, they have to be," Danny reported.

"Okay, I'm evacuating people. The GIW didn't bother warning Vlad's servants about their little plan."

Vlad's no longer secret lab was deserted, the portal blessedly shut but a mound of bombs had been piled at its base like Christmas presents. A beep made him turn intangible on reflex.

"Danny, what's going on?" three people asked through the Fenton Fones.

"Complicated, time-delayed bombs all around the portal."

"I thought you learned how to disarm bombs?" Sam said.

"The 101 version. These look like the mis-placed final exam for the five-hundred class. Tucker?"

"Don't look at me. I'm an expert in _creative_ technological stuff, not destructive."

"Will they blow up the ghost zone?" asked Valerie.

"No, the portal is still sealed and there aren't nearly enough, but that will blow up the Plasmius Portal."

"You need to get out of there if you can't disarm them."

"Maybe I can rip them off."

"Will the bombs destroy the whole world?" Valerie asked.

"Not with the portal locked."

"Then leave before they blow!"

In Danny's experience silence was always ominous. He fled from the noiseless bombs through a mansion so deserted it should have been haunted and out to the open air, throwing up a wall of ice to protect the people gathered outside. At first Valerie's warning didn't seem to mean anything. No explosion hit his back and flung him off the lawn. No rumble made the hairs on the back of his neck raise.

He thought too soon.

The earth itself shuddered, as though many miles below its serene surface a fit of subterranean road rage sparked. The violent tremble shook the feet beneath everyone and Danny floated instinctively skyward. Beyond any earthly sense, within the part of him connected to the ghost zone by an electrical accident, the superhero felt a ghost of a similar tremor and knew the portal was blown to kingdom come.

The Masters Mansion stood, as though the GIW's best bombs were an inconvenient sneeze.

Several moments passed as everyone waited for something exciting to happen. When not so much as a shingle fell, most of the custodians began the long trek back to the mansion to see what more messes needed cleaning up. Y was the first agent to follow them, twitching whenever Danny drew too near.

Vlad Master's prize lab was identified only by the room's position. Millions of dollars worth of equipment that would have guillotined mere cutting-edge junk had been reduced to molecules and a bitter stench. Black streaks radiating from the former portal weren't ashes but burns against multi-million dollar reinforcements.

Otherwise the room was perfectly clean.

Ominously, no portal remained. Not even a gaping hole in the ghost zone lingered or a rift, just a dirt pit. Danny could feel _something_ haunting the air where two worlds once spied on each other through a metaphysical keyhole. He had been a superhero long enough to know that this was not over. Countless comic-books and real-life experiences alike told him that the portal was only waiting to take a bigger chunk out of his ass when it bit.

Aside from the burns, the reinforcements around the lab proved you got what you paid for. Vlad Masters had spent enough money to make the richest men in the world wince reinforcing his lab after his last ghost portal disaster. The explosive force of a million dollars worth of government money in bombs hadn't made more than a millimeter's dent. Vlad's servants were even now cleaning up what little mess there was, restoring the mansion to its former glory.

Danny Phantom scowled at that lab like it had killed his father. At Vlad's prized Packers collection as though they'd ripped his dad's throat out. At all his useless money poured into expensive rugs, yellow and gold wallpaper and marble like it tore his family apart. Turning away from it all, he phased upwards and away. He just needed to leave.

Until he saw the painting.

The picture must have cost a fortune, painted by some famous artist and framed in gem-studded gold. Vlad stood, bedecked and framed by wealth, a smile more triumphant than loving on his face as he looked down at the images of Maddie and Danny, both rendered with adoring expressions they would never actually look at Vlad with.

Something in his chest burst.

An ecto-blast slammed into the portrait, turning that fantasy into satisfying ashes. Not enough, not with his pain swept away by fury.

"Valerie," Danny growled. "Get everyone out."

"The bombs didn't work," Valerie began. Until she saw the look in his eyes; rather the ghostly glowing ecto-bombs his eyes turned into. She shot the nearest fire alarm. A wail of warning rang out and she hauled the nearest people sweeping up the picture away.

As a bonfire dies before a wildfire, so that feeble mechanical wail drowned before another. Once more Danny became a conduit, this time of wrath. Reinforcements that withstood the best of the GIW trembled and shattered beneath his ghostly wail. Ectoplasmic force tore those reinforcements apart like newspaper, instantly ripping through the building. Ice froze and shattered millions of dollars worth of paintings and Packers memorabilia in a fraction of a second as Danny unleashed his power. Rare fabrics, rugs and tapestries Vlad had collected over the years transformed from priceless to shards and ashes. Danny vented his wrath on every piece personally.

Finally, hovering above the crumpled building, he compressed all the ectoplasm he could within a ball of ice and let it fly. The massive ball of ghostly energy would have shattered the second-story window if there was a second-story window left to shatter. Landing in the middle of the once stately mansion, now prospective haunted house, the makeshift bomb finished Danny's job. Cracks appeared in the icy container. All at once the ectoplasmic energy exploded. Walls bulged and blew out like the sides of a balloon, ripped apart by sheer force. The roof would have collapsed instantly if it too hadn't been reduced to a rain of scraps of shingles and splinters.

Where the Masters Mansion of Amity Park had once stood, a crater lay.

"He's not paying me enough to clean that mess up." Was the summation of a janitor.

GIW agents and Vlad's former servants crawled out from behind the ice-shield. Around them whole trees had been torn out by their roots from the wail, neatly penning the group in. Only Danny and Valerie rose unimpeded to ringing silence.

One of the GIW agents stumbled over a log on shaky legs, gaping at the complete destruction of what was once a home. "You—you—."

"Damn. You did that," said Agent Y.

"Your…" Danny coughed, "Bombs…did that," he rasped weakly.

"Did that destroy the ghost zone?" Agent F asked.

"Are we all ghosts?" Valerie said snidely.

"Feels like it ugh," Agent Y managed to get to her feet as Danny dissipated the shield. "Um…that shield thing…appreciated." She gave a jerky nod.

Agent F nodded as well. "Yeah, thanks." He cringed at the glare his boss gave him.

Agent K turned that glare to Phantom. "What were you doing here at Plasmius's mansion? I knew he escaped too easily at the trial. Knew you were in cahoots with him!"

Huntress's armored hand was the only thing that stopped Danny from something that would see him lab-locked forever. "Phantom is the last person who would work with Vlad. How would you like to work with the one who murdered your son?" A sharp hiss, as though she struck him, escaped the GIW commander. "No one's had it worse from Vlad than Danny…not even me."

He glanced between ghost hunter and ghost, scrutinizing Danny who did his best not to inflict a little of the pain the man's careless words dealt him. Valerie's grip turned from uncomfortable to painful holding him back. Finally the burly man gave Red Huntress a brief nod, "Fine, so he's fooled you as well."

Valerie bristled, "You're the fools."

"We'll see about that. Dismissed," he barked to his agents.

"Let go…please," Danny muttered, rubbing his shoulder once Valerie released him.

"I know this is the pot calling the kettle black so just think a moment about who this is coming from. You're too vengeful and it's going to destroy you."

Danny opened his mouth to argue.

"—just like it's destroying Vlad." He turned away from her. "Danny—"

"I'm gonna…fly."

And if his flight just happened to take him near Clockwork? Coincidence. Or so he told the Time Master.

Clockwork raised an eyebrow but opened the door further and floated aside, silently inviting Danny in. The pair passed countless ticking clocks, hourglasses and turning gears, their echoing tolls of time passed driving thoughts out of Danny's head. Most of them anyway. The time ghost spoke first. "You should know that your father is not and never will be a ghost."

"Oh." Danny had held out a little hope…maybe…if he was still the same person like Johnny or Clockwork or even that Ghost Agent kid.

"Why?"

"Jack had too many people he held dear in his life to grasp onto a single obsession and he has made enough peace and happiness with himself and his life to feel the need to return."

"But…" Danny hated how small his strained voice sounded, "He loved us."

"Yes, he cherished all of you too much to consume that love with obsession, as Vlad clings to Maddie."

Another silence descended between them as they faced screens shifting through infinite alternate timelines. The images moved in a blur, leaving Danny to catch a flicker here, a flash there. Still, he thought he saw a glimpse of his dad, ancient and weary on his death bed.

"I know…better than to change…past," Danny began. "But…" he looked pleadingly at the omniscient ghost. "Is there anything—," he croaked. Clockwork handed him a glass of water. "I could have done? Anything at all…to save him."

"It is testimony to your skill and power and vigilance that this did not happen years ago," Clockwork said. The screens changed.

Vision after vision passed of his father dying. First in the ghost portal—so many of him arched, limbs splayed, caught like a fly in a spider-web of lethal electricity. Then at the reunion, Vlad phased free, delivering an accidental coup-de-grace. An ecto-blast to the chest, ripping a seared-edged hole where Jack's heart used to be. A severed head, brain carved out, a candle lit inside like a serial killer's version of a Jack-o-lantern. A fiery crown on Plasmius's head as the executioner's ax descended. His mom, pistol in hand, torn between her husband and son, Vlad floating behind her like the devil, one hand lit up in ectoplasm, one word: choose.

"Kill me, I already forgive you," his living father said.

Danny stared as though the screen was a twisted mirror of Erised until Vlad, reeling back from the bullet in his head—regular lead, not enough to kill him—lifted a blazing ectoplasmic sun in hand.

Danny turned away before the bolt struck home. "No more."

Clockwork's screens obligingly returned to their regularly scheduled programs. "By happenstance and on purpose you have foiled no less than one thousand two hundred and seventeen of Vlad's plans to kill your father. Commendable, but the _only_ thing that could have erased such a future was Vlad's willingness to forgive your father. Tragically he was unable to learn yet."

Shifting into an old man, Father Time spoke. "My domain heals all wounds but that time may take long to pass. At least with flesh wounds I can help a little." The time ghost's power suddenly swept over Danny.

"Thanks," he said, with only a little discomfort.

"You are welcome." Pausing, the Time Master added in a lighter tone of voice. "May I recommend visiting other old friends in grievous times such as these? Talk of the future rather than dwelling on the past will do you good."

Danny took that bit of throwaway advice with the seriousness anyone would from an omniscient being. Once he left the clock tower he rang Tucker. "Hey Tuck…do you remember Wulf's contact info?"

* * *

The day of Jack Fenton's funeral had no right to dawn so brilliantly sunny. A perfect spring day. Had Danny kept his powers from Vortex, thunder clouds would have choked the noonday sun and stained the baby blue sky black with ominous storms. Rain would have poured like God's sorrow until nothing was dry, until the very fibers in the crowd's deepest bones were drenched. Thunder would rumble in place of everything he wanted to scream to the heavens and the people who weren't here to say goodbye.

Most of them weren't here for his dad. They were here because the world knew Danny Fenton was Danny Phantom and they salivated like soap opera addicts about the funeral. No less than a dozen cameras were present, all pointing at him. Maybe a few would pan out, giving the viewers a glance at the crowd around him or the headstone in front of him to really turn on the water-works. He couldn't hide the face of a hero behind the face of an ordinary high school student anymore.

So he suffered in silence.

Almost.

"He would have liked this day," Jazz commented. "How are you feeling?"

"You've asked me that question at least a dozen times Jazz. I think psychology is your coping mechanism."

Jazz sighed. "Probably." She glanced at her mother, then the tombstone. "It's not working very well."

"I'm sorry…I've been ignoring you guys. I'm not the only one Vlad hurt."

"Let's go talk to mom."

The reporters didn't dare interrupt this, though every camera was fixated on the three remaining Fentons. Jazz's arms wrapped around him and their mom. Her arms engulfed her children. Danny held the last of his family close and their touch didn't hurt, as tight as the hug was.

Jack Fenton had expressed in his will the desire to donate his body to science so they had no body to bury, no face to see one last time. Just as well, to Danny. Better than seeing his dad's corpse covered up in a mask of life. As though he could open his eyes at any moment.

Danny didn't think his heart could take any more hope.

Even with the media, the sheer number of people still staggered Danny. He darkly wondered how many of them would have shown up if his identity had been kept secret. Kwan, who stood further away than most, probably wouldn't have…but Cho Li was his mom. Any anger Danny had died and as his mom and sister parted, he walked over.

"I'm sorry…about your mom," Danny said.

Kwan nodded. "Not your fault. They said it killed her instantly. Nothing anyone could have done."

Maybe if he'd flown a little faster, kept a little closer eye on Vlad and the GIW.

"I'm sorry about your dad," Kwan added.

"So am I."

"Kwan Li, would you like to say a few words?"

Confusion fluttered across Danny's face. Why would Kwan speak—oh. Danny felt his stomach drop out as the football player took to the podium and pulled out a home-made card. He raised his voice for the crowd, "I-I was going to give it to her…for mother's day."

"A poem just for you,

In honor of mother's day

Hoped you would like it."

His sword wound seemed to flare up, except this pain was centered dead in his heart as Danny realized this wasn't just his father's funeral. The graveyard was covered in tombstones and covered in the mourning living. Cho Li's funeral, and so many others, from the courtroom were all happening today. Looking beyond his father's grave, Danny could see other people ascending podiums, other speeches spoken. Other loved ones lowered into graves. Other headstones.

Danny felt every one of those ectoranium bullets in the heart. "I'm sorry."

No one heard him.

"Would Danny Phantom like to say a few words?"

Danny marched up the podium himself. He would have been happier walking to the gallows. But as he focused on friends and family below, he spoke without pain for the first time in what seemed like years.

"I'm not one for wishing, because that's just an invitation to a ghost and dad's not around to shout the obvious." A few weak smiles. "He's not coming back…as a ghost. Clockwork told me that and he's omniscient. Dad loved life and us but didn't cling to either out of mere obsession. I hope dad, wherever you are now, you're happy and content." Happier than Vlad. "I hope the same for everyone who was killed and I _promise_ to do better."

"Dad, you never hated. Even with how Vlad treated you like crap, like the world's pettiest bully," Danny took another breath. "You still called him friend." He didn't deserve such a good friend as you. "You had such…capacity, to forgive and you changed your whole world-view…just for me. I don't think there are words to express how incredible that is."

"Family was everything to you," Danny finished softly. "Family and friends. You loved so much more than you ever hated." Thinking on Clockworks words he added. "And even if you have no castle or piles of money to show for it, you've lived a better, greater, happier life for it. A life without grudges to eat away at your heart. A life without regrets because you made up and moved forward."

"I could follow Vlad's example. Let my heart rot with hate. Or I could follow yours. I w—would have liked for Vlad to have followed that example. You wouldn't have died." Danny took a sip of water. "But even if he can't right now, I will. You would have forgiven Vlad. But you're gone now so it's up to me to forgive him in your place."

His family actually smiled. Feeble things, but shreds of joy.

"I'm letting go of my hate. I will be like you, dad. I promise."

* * *

 **A/N:** No, Jack isn't coming back as a ghost. I thought about doing that but it would cheapen his death. Besides the GIW would then be after Jack and trying to hunt him down and interesting as that would be, that's kinda Danny's storyline so no Jack Phantom.

Forgiving Vlad is more about ensuring Danny doesn't turn into Vlad by hating him. Danny's forgiveness doesn't really hurt or help Vlad right now but it will hurt or help Danny a lot; holding a grudge is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die. Anyway, he's promised to forgive Vlad. It's going to be difficult for him to actually do so, but he's finally started healing.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank you for all your reviews and favorites and support! You guys inspire me so…which leads either to brilliant ideas, better writing or just considering things I hadn't thought of. This chapter was supposed to be the last chapter but thanks to you guys I couldn't just end things here. Enjoy!

 **Inevitable**

"Agent K, target 3018 sighted in association with three humans."

* * *

Air refreshing as lemonade on a summer day breezed through the family canoeing on the placid waters of Amity Lake. The mirror-like surface perfectly reflected a baby-blue sky and rays of sun beamed down, warming the three like a campfire on a cold night. Seven year old David reached for minnows darting just below the water's surface, his dad's arm safely around him while his papa gently paddled the canoe.

Glowing green engulfed the canoe as unseen force yanked it out from beneath them in the blink of an eye. Without the boat all three dropped into the frigid lake, which was getting over winter like a particularly bad cold. Shocking chill forced air out of gaping mouths like they'd been shot. Only lifejackets kept bitter-cold water from drowning their lungs. Below them, the dim glow of the canoe faded in the depths of the lake.

Until it vanished.

Hefting David onto their shoulders, keeping him as much out of the water as possible, both men struggled for shore, but swimming that distance…

"Hang on! Ghost Agent is here!" The family looked up: David excited, his parents wondering if they'd been transported into a comic book. Well any port in a storm.

"See! I told you ghosts were real!" David shouted.

"Take him first!" both men shouted as one, hefting David higher.

"I can take two."

"Take Nicholas, I'm the better swimmer," one shouted.

Nicholas opened his mouth to protest but Ghost Agent impatiently plucked him and David out of the icy water of Amity Lake. Refreshing spring air suddenly felt like a biting winter wind, made more piercing by soaked clothes.

"W-woah! Y-you're real!" David said, stuttering from cold.

"Of course!"

"Y-you're still solid," his papa said, shivering.

"Yup, I can turn intangible but the last time I tried that I dropped the cat."

The older man immediately stopped prodding and looked down at the lake. "Don't do that."

"Okay."

Dry and solid beneath their feet, the ground was a godsend. "Take off your jacket son," Nicholas ordered and gathered the boy in his arms. The sun's warmth was like the dimmest coals of a campfire now, and the two huddled together, Nicholas trying to stop David's shivering. "Please, Frederick—"

"I'll save him!"

Frederick made good time with powerful strokes despite the icy waters. Yet from his half-submerged viewpoint land seemed a mile away. Though the burn of exertion kept him from freezing to death, the cold was stronger still, sinking into fingers and toes, spreading up arms and into legs. Each stroke took a little more effort, a little slower as the burn grew less warming and more painful.

Suddenly cutting air hit him as Ghost Agent freed Frederick from the water. "Oh, thank you."

"Dad!"

"I've already called nine-one-one so they should be here soon," Nicholas said.

"Oh good, come here David, let's get you warm."

Looking up at the floating ghost, Nicholas gave him a grateful smile even as he still twitched from the cold. "Thank you. You are a real hero." He said genuinely.

Ghost Agent couldn't possibly puff up anymore without bursting. A real hero! He'd saved a whole family from drowning! Never in his life had he done anything that felt this good.

"Your dad must have raised you well," Frederick added.

"Yes he did! He told me to always do what's right and what I believe in. Oh, there he is right now. Goodbye!"

Ghost Agent turned around, flying toward the white van and white-suited man stepping out of it. If he'd stayed a little longer he would have seen both men frowning, then going wide-eyed.

"WAIT!" Frederick screamed.

Ghost Agent was too far away to hear.

* * *

"Dad?"

Agent K hid a flinch at that voice. So painfully his son's; tainted with an echo. "I saw you…did you rescue that family?" He nodded toward the three, one who was already rising and sprinting toward them from the other side of the lake. A fair distance, especially to cover at a run instead of flight like…like a ghost could; but he would have to get this over quickly.

"Yeah! I saved them all from drowning!" Ghost Agent said, looking so giddily pleased with himself that Agent K didn't have the heart to point out their life-jackets would have kept them alive. "Their little boy won't end up in the hospital like I did." He settled to the ground, ghostly tail transforming into legs and stared up at his dad with serious eyes. "I don't think I've ever done something so good in my life."

Agent K flinched again but nodded and knelt. "You…you did well," he rasped.

"I really did!" His son ran toward him—just like when he was alive—and leapt into his arms. "They called me a hero dad."

"That's right." And that only made this harder. Agent K returned the hug, ignoring the ghostly cold, closing his eyes against the ghostly glow.

"And their dad won't have to work all the time…like you did." Ghost Agent's voice dropped.

Something caught in the Agent's throat. Three years his son lived, in a hospital bed but _there_ , alive, waiting for him and he was out, hunting ghosts. But more than any bills needed paying he had needed this. Just like… _Phantom_ needed to make sure no father suffered his pain.

But the time for visiting his son was over. Instead he had to be content with this illusion of family comfort. His son let go of him first, squirming like little boys tended to do. The father wanted to hold on a little longer.

"I'm sorry, but all that work did pay for all your hospital bills and kept you alive son. Alive for three years. Without this," he tapped his suit, "You…you would have…" Agent K gestured to the ghostly form. "This would have happened years ago. And just like you, I needed to be a hero."

"Am I really a hero dad?"

Emotion tried to strangle him, tried to keep the damnable words in. "Yes you are and…I hate to ask this of you but I need you to do one more heroic thing for me."

"What's that?"

"I just need you to stand there, and be still, and," Agent K's voice grew a little hoarse, "Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"Please." He added.

"Dad…" Ghost Agent stared sadly at his father, at the gun he was carrying. Ectoranium bullets; one shot could destroy a ghost. Even the most ignorant had heard of them. "Is…is it the right thing to do?"

"Yes. God help me but yes. I never wanted this for you son."

"Do…you believe it's right?" Ghost Agent asked in such a small, broken voice.

"If I didn't I wouldn't be doing this. I promise I wouldn't be doing this for anything else or anyone else unless it was right and needs to be done."

"You always said to do what's right."

"Yes."

Agent K almost hoped his s—the ghost of his son would fight back. Show some self-preservation instinct, attack him and make it easy to pull the trigger…or maybe escape. Anything other than simply standing there and taking it. No, he couldn't think like that. If he began making exceptions now Agent I, Agent O, so many others would have been destroyed for nothing. Better the ghost attacked, he could be justified pulling the trigger. It would be nothing for him to shoot another attacking ghost. He could feel a little like a hero—and a little like a ghost when part of him died.

"Okay…if you believe this is right. Okay."

"Thank you," he croaked.

"Will it hurt?"

Yes, thought Agent K. This will be the most painful thing anyone could have ever had to do. Its agony will be blinding for a lifetime. Agent K would more gladly shoot himself in the heart. That would hurt less.

"No…son."

Not for you.

In the distance—or in his distant mind—he could hear screaming, pleading, and squashed that voice as he raised his pistol. This needed to be done. For the sake of everyone. Before his…before the ghost went insane, before his…its mind shattered from obsession and only a mad undead creature was left, spreading tragedy in its wake. Before power corrupted this sweet echo of his son. So they could both move on.

But he wanted to remember his boy like this: kind, noble, trusting, accepting and drank in the image of his son, the strange gold eyes, the white hair, the oddly greenish tint to his skin next to his familiar button nose, wild hairstyle and too-large ears sticking out on either side of his head. His precious, precious son. He stared until he could not stand to stare anymore.

CRACK

His son fell silently only to dissipate as the pierced core died. The last of the ghost faded to lights. He lowered the gun, one hand going to his chest. Had that sound been the bullet or his heart?

"Agent K is it done?" Agent L barked through the com-link.

Silence.

"Agent K, did you eliminate target 3018."

Letting the burn of sadness ease from his jaw and eyes and the sound of it slip from his throat, he finally answered when he could trust his voice: "Yes sir."

A pause. "That was not your son."

"I know."

Agent K turned off his com-link, took it off and laid it in the grass, took off his glasses just as the man…his son had saved collapsed near him. All the desperation, the agony, the grief and disgust churning inside his heart was shown on this man's face, along with the disbelief of a father and the wide-eyed horror of confronting a monster.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Frederick shouted.

Agent K picked up his gun. The other man grabbed his arm, forcibly stopping him. "What the hell is wrong with—you just shot your son!"

He holstered his gun. "I'm a GIW Agent. It's what we do."

* * *

Aragon's roar morphed to a man's high scream as Valerie cut the draconic amulet off. Danny dodged the scythe of one of his hanger-ons and laid him out with one punch, grabbing the weapon before it could accidentally impale a bystander. The slight whish of another weapon made him instinctively turn and raise the scythe just in time to block an ax.

"Want to bury the hatchet?" He asked, locking blades one handed, the other hand reaching for his iconic tech.

In a blaze of light the last two ghosts vanished and Danny capped the thermos before letting out an unnoticeable sigh of relief at all the living faces staring at him. No one had died. The shock of his dad's death had truly driven home that anyone could die—but not today. Valerie, in her Red Huntress disguise, sucked Aragon in his own thermos before slipping away. Tucker and Sam holstered their weapons and he flew to the ground, shifting back to Fenton.

"No major damage to the building even," Principal Ishyama smiled.

"I'm just glad no one died," Danny said softly.

"Of course not, that would be tragic, but obviously no one died so the lack of damage is also nice. You've gotten quite good at preventing such things. Thank you Danny. If you ever need a letter of recommendation for any university or scholarship I'll be happy to write you one."

"Thanks," Danny said, subdued.

Mr. Lancer looked at him with some concern, "Are you having problems with your future education?"

"No more than expected," Danny said unhelpfully. Sam and Tucker joined him.

"Don't worry Mr. L, we've been helping him sort through that massive stack of applications," Tucker said, throwing an arm around his friend. Too many of those letters were universities banning 'half ghosts' from their campuses and personally informing Danny of that fact. Those he and Sam just burned. Danny didn't need to read that crap anyway.

Valerie slipped into the crowd and Lancer was obviously caught between two superheroes he needed to help and wished internally for the power to duplicate.

"I'm fine Mr. Lancer, not a scratch on me," Danny said.

Like all those close to Danny, the English teacher doubted the validity of the words 'I'm fine,' something Sam understood as well. "We'll take care of him."

Deciding to take them at face value for now in order to help Miss Gray, Mr. Lancer nodded. "Very well but if you feel so much as a twinge of pain—"

"Straight to the nurse's office," Danny finished.

"There's still twenty minutes left in the school day, I expect all three of you to be in class," the vice principle shouted after them.

"Ugh, really glad I didn't get stuck with the powers. Being forced to doctors and hospitals and nurses—not even cute ones either—that's cruel man. So what are you planning on doing after graduation?" Tucker asked. "We're almost free of high school!"

Danny shrugged slightly, "Between everything that's happened I haven't given it much thought. Some universities really want me to study at their campuses."

"That's so they can brag about having Danny Phantom at their school," Sam said. "And maybe for security reasons," she considered. "Any campus with you there is going to be a very safe campus. I mean look at Amity Park's crime. Or what's left of it anyway."

"Yeah I know. My grades aren't that impressive." Although during the last year they had risen decently.

"Grades aren't everything," Sam's hand was soft and comforting on his shoulder. "You do a lot more than any A-plus student."

"What about you? What do you plan on doing?"

"MIT accepted my application!" Tucker shouted. "In the fall I'm finally ditching all that useless crap Lancer teaches and diving into technology. Glorious freedom!"

"Congrats! Good for you," Danny said.

"But why are we talking about school? It's almost Summer and we are going to be school-free for three months and more importantly eighteen," Tucker pointed out.

"Finally free of our parents!" Sam shouted. Suddenly she winced at Danny's flinch. "Sorry Danny."

"It's okay. You didn't mean anything. I'm getting better…really."

"Road trip!" Tucker changed the subject.

"Seriously? After freshman year?" Danny asked.

"Sans GIW," Sam said. "We don't have to, but it would be nice to travel…heck with my inheritance—I'm usually not a big money-spender—we could travel all over the world. Get some actual experience with other cultures."

"That would be cool," Danny admitted.

"Wouldn't be exploring other worlds man, but still, there are countries without a drinking age," Tucker added.

"Critically important," Sam deadpanned.

"What about Amity Park?" Danny asked worriedly, "I mean if I'm gone for three whole months…" he trailed off, glancing back in the direction of the assault. Aragon had led the remnants of his rebel army against the school and without him…

"Don't worry about it. Keep Aragon in the thermos for a while and with Plasmius and all the trouble he causes gone your mom and Valerie can handle Amity for a couple of months. If something does come up they can always use this cutting edge technology we call cell phones," Tucker teased.

"He's alive somewhere," Danny stated. "He's not gone. I don't know where he is but he's not gone."

"Are you…worried about Amity Park?" Tucker asked gently.

"Of course I am, I've spent four years saving it," Danny said.

"But…when we all go to college. Amity doesn't have an actual university," Sam said. "The closest university is in Chicago where I applied."

"I know," Danny said softly.

* * *

Jazz was waiting for him when he got home. And she'd brought the big guns: mom. Danny entered Fentonworks with a resigned sigh. "You talked to Sam, didn't you."

"And Mr. Lancer called us," his mom said, looking up from another order of Fentonworks gadgets.

If dad was there, tinkering with a new invention, it would be like nothing had changed. Instead one extra chair sat empty.

"We're just worried about you sweetie, but you can also work on these ghost finders. So many people are ordering them we've got months worth of back-log."

"Right," Danny pulled several pieces toward him and began putting them together with well-practiced motions.

"Education is very important and growing more so with the increased numbers of people going to college and the financial crisis…" Jazz shook her head. "Competing in the job market is going to be extremely difficult even for a college graduate, let alone someone who hasn't even gone. You need to have a plan in mind."

"I can put 'superhero' on my resume," Danny said. "That's going to make me or break me. Besides everyone knows me. I'll either be promoted way beyond my competence level or not hired at all because I'm a 'half-ghost' freak."

"Don't say that," his mom said. "Don't ever believe that sweetie."

"—not everyone will accept me like you guys do." Danny shrugged, "That's life. But mom, Jazz, I chose this life over education. I chose to protect people. I'd like to do college but," he shrugged, "It's not that important. Not to me."

"And I'm proud of you for that choice," his mom said. "You don't need college—though online classes are an option. You can always stay to work…now that Jack…"

He nodded and passed another ghost finder to his mom, pulling more pieces toward him. The demand for Fentonworks products hadn't lessened after Jack's death. If anything people wanted more now that Vlad was on the loose and the GIW were spreading ghost fear everywhere. Without Jack, the work-load, which was incredible enough, became staggering. "Thanks, though I don't want this to just be nepotism—"

"It isn't. Your practical insight is invaluable and I would have to spend too much time training anyone else. Perfectly practical to hire you. You're already working here anyway," his mom said. "Besides I expect you to work for your promotions."

"Do you feel stuck here? Trapped in Amity Park?" Jazz asked.

"I made my decision," Danny said. "Besides it's my responsibility," He glanced down to the lab where their portal was safely shut. The portal he had opened. Even now the amount of ectoplasmic energy it produced made natural portals the ghosts could go through.

Suddenly cold blue fog wisped from his mouth and he smiled bleakly, handing his mom another ghost finder. "Besides, at least I don't have to worry about my future."

"Everyone worries about their future sweetie," his mom called as he flew away.

* * *

"Damn Daniel, Damn the GIW and for good measure damn Jack! What future do I have?" Vlad snarled as he stormed through the torrent. Cutting cold sliced deep through the remains of his ragged suit into his bones, wind tore away precious heat he tried to keep with arms clasped tight around his chest. Each raindrop was an ice-cube against his skin, so many he grew numb to the sensation. Five thousand dollar business shoes had turned into two sponges squelching with each soggy step, the water within freezing his feet. His ears were numb. His hands, tucked beneath armpits, were just warm enough to feel the bitingly cold. His hair was so plastered to his skull it looked painted on. Not even a soggy hat protected him from the bucket-fuls of icy water the clouds gloried in drenching him in. Was Vortex responsible for this?

A homeless person, better dressed than he, took shelter beneath a parked van. Rubbing more water out of his eyes, Vlad slunk away.

Soaked to his very soul with water and misery, Vlad was painfully aware of how recognizable he was. Even now a billboard showed off his face sandwiched between 'Wanted' and 'One Million dollars'. With his ghost powers he could have flown away or become invisible or intangibly slipped into some UPS truck—if he wasn't so exhausted. He had recovered enough to walk after phasing out of Agent K when the man took a trip to the grocery store but the wounds Daniel had dealt had been nearly fatal. It had taken this long just to gain a meager shred of strength back.

Perhaps he should have stuck with the GIW agent when the man went to his mansion. Just as well that he hadn't though. If the explosion didn't killed him, Daniel's reckless destruction of his home would have.

His human body had poured all his ghostly power into keeping him alive, leaving him barely able to access his most basic abilities. No worst-case scenario plan had included being nearly beaten to death by an enraged fellow halfa.

Maybe he shouldn't have killed Jack?

Vlad shook his head. No, Jack had to pay for turning him half-ghost in the first place and starting this whole mess. Besides goody-goody hero that he was, Daniel would have gone after him anyway. He _was_ willing to work with the GIW against a fellow halfa. At least the bumbling fool was no more in the world. _That_ was a balm against the festering ulcur the idiot had been.

Something glowing and green and annoyingly beeping caught Vlad's attention and the halfa swiftly leapt a fence—or tried to. Without his powers he managed half the leap needed to clear it, his torso folded over the edge. A little wiggling dropped him over the side into a spiny hell of bushes. Every joint and fresh scar cried out. Even in death Jack's infernal inventions haunted him. Those ghost finders of his were in the hands of thousands of Amity's residents; more than a few eager to collect a million dollar reward. Worst of all without his powers, his considerable resources or even his full health an ordinary citizen could apprehending him.

Loud, harsh barks warned him in time of the massive charging dog—a creature that looked half poodle and half Rottweiler. Vlad lashed out, punching the beast in the nose but snapping jaws closed around his hand and suit. Gritting his teeth against a scream, he punched again with his free hand. Blood spurted from its nose and his wrist as the animal reeled back, whimpering.

"Git," he ordered, adding a kick to the dog for good measure.

A flashlight beam cut the night. Light illuminated a window. Vlad crawled behind the bushes as a figure with a bat—no a Fenton anti-creep stick—looked out into the yard. The snarling mutt was giving away his position. Ignoring his pains, the halfa bolted for the far side of the fence, gripped the top and hauled himself over with a combination of heaving with his arms and rolling his body over. The flashlight swept over his form as he fell. Hitting the wet ground, Vlad picked himself up and staggered away from the yard and its yelling resident.

A flash of headlights forced him to flatten himself to the ground. A GIW van skidded to a stop with a slosh of water that drenched him further. Two agents stepped out.

"I'm certain the radar detected an ectoplasmic signature," one agent flicked on his flashlight. "That lady said she saw him."

"People have been seeing him since he escaped. There must be a hundred Vlad's running around," snarked the other.

"Well, he can duplicate."

Not now. Darkness alone concealed him. His dark suit pressed against the dark grass kept the GIW agents blundering blindly around him. If that flashlight caught so much as the shine of his hair…or worse the agent stepped on him—he would be dead twice over. But where could he go that his ghostly signature wouldn't be detected?

Again his eyes settled on the white van.

"Found another natural portal here!" the other agent shouted.

Swerving around, the first agent took a step, foot descending on Vlad's arm. He moved it and froze as the toe of a shoe touched his cheek. The agent paused—or so it appeared to Vlad, whose heart was moving so fast time itself seemed to slow down. Another step brought another descending shoe…that hit the ground between his face and his arm, splattering mud in his eye.

Then the footsteps receded as the first agent joined the second.

Trembling once more at his own daring, hardly able to crawl his limbs shook so badly, Vlad edged to the GIW van. In times of trouble any port in a storm, even your enemy's port. Vlad turned himself intangible to slip through the van.

Thud.

"Cheese logs." Not even intangibility.

"What was that?"

"Where? Back in our van?"

Vlad clung to the underside of the vehicle as light beams swept around the outside, edging toward his hiding place.

"No actual ghosts out here now."

"Let's report another Wild Call and head back to base."

"Seriously who does name this stuff?"

Beneath the van, dripping with mud, Vlad gripped the underside with the strongest grip he'd ever exerted and prayed to the god he didn't believe in that the vehicle didn't crash. Of course Jack would find a way to curse him from beyond the grave.

A blare of sirens tortured his ears. A whoosh of water drenched him as the van glided smoothly on slick streets into the nearest lamp-post.

Vlad reaffirmed his atheism.

* * *

"And Jack of course came thundering across the room, threw open the door and yelled at the top of his lungs—"

"GHOOOOST!" several people finished.

"—and that was how we met," Maddie finished.

Tucker laughed, "Oh man, so he's always been like that. Remember that time you and I and Sam all went as ghosts?"

"And made the mistake of trick-or-treating at my house," Danny grumbled playfully. "We were lucky all we got was slimed!"

"Just like in the movies!" Sam added. "Actually doesn't this movie have someone getting slimed?"

"They can't make ectoplasmic goop like dad could," Jazz said.

"They should have hired us to make the ectoplasm for this movie," Maddie shook her head. "We offered but they didn't actually want to have real ectoplasm in a movie about ghost hunters!"

"Well they are actors and you know what can happen when ectoplasm comes into contact with…well almost anything else," Danny said.

"It would have been harmless," Maddie insisted.

"Ecto-converter," Jazz pointed out.

"Ecto-toaster," Tucker added dryly.

"The thanksgiving incident," Danny shuddered. "Never have things so fowl happened to food so good."

Sam gave him a shove, "That was bad. You do realize that is the reason why I became a vegetarian."

"I thought it was the reanimated wieners," Jazz said. Her eyes widened at the mental image.

Tucker, Sam and Danny snickered. "Oh man that picture, get it out of my head!" Tucker said.

"Now that could be a horror movie," Sam said. "The wiener from beyond the grave."

Danny actually laughed.

"Jack would have done well starring in a movie like this," Sam said. "Well maybe not starring, these days you've got to be Paulina or Dash to star in a movie."

"Actually I don't think even Paulina would be able to star in a movie," Tucker pointed out. "Not unless she bleaches her skin."

"Anyway he's a big guy who loves big guns and could play the hero and comic relief all in one. The everyman everyone identifies with," Sam said.

"—Who messes everything up," Tucker added.

"—but manages to save the day anyway," Danny trailed off fondly.

"I don't know if many people could identify with Jack," Maddie said. "He was one of a kind."

"At least Vlad's secret was exposed," Danny said softly.

"Vlad would be over here in two point five seconds 'comforting the widow' otherwise," Jazz said. The entire Fenton Family shuddered at that image.

"I wouldn't have," Maddie said. "I never really loved him. Liked him as a friend yes…once upon a time," her eyes flashed.

Danny decided not to mention the alternate timeline where she married him.

"You know how much your father did for him? He had saved up for a car but gave Vlad a five thousand dollar loan so he could finish college." She snorted, "Vlad never did pay him back. And one time Vlad nearly landed in jail—a tip for all of you, be a little more careful who you party with—Jack was afraid he'd get deported. They set up the whole thing so that Jack would take the blame for possession. I had to bail him out because Vlad didn't have the money." Maddie shook her head. "Vlad always did hold onto the bad things and forget the good things."

"Sounds like Jack was a good friend," Danny said softly.

Maddie stared at the group. "Oh, there was a time the three of us were as close as you three, and Alicia was part of our group…of course she was quick to head to a homestead once she left college but…what I'm saying is don't repeat our mistakes. Don't break up as though you've never met each other and drift apart…and don't…just don't be like Vlad."

"Sound advice," Jazz said.

"We don't plan to," Sam added.

"Can't get rid of us that easy," Tucker said.

"No one plans for these things," Maddie warned gently. "They just happen."

Someone knocked politely on the door. "I truly regret this but you are all under arrest for crimes against the anti-ecto law so if you would please open the door." Everyone gaped at the door in shock.

BOOM!

A shower of plaster, shingles and metal forced the Fentons to duck. Danny and Maddie overturned the couch for cover as the whole house trembled like Vlad's mansion. Ropes came snaking down from their roof…or from where the roof had been.

Danny reacted automatically to the explosion, years of superhero reflexes made creating an ice shield for cover instinctive. A thick shield, capable of withstanding anything short of a ghostly wail. Maddie reacted with equal swiftness, but unlike her son she knew these attackers were no ghosts. No ectoplasmic entity needed rope to descend from a ceiling. Poking her gun out from behind the cover, she shot the first descending GIW agent.

"Anyone who fires against us is under arrest for assaulting a federal agent!" The first rappelling figure announced. To the door he added, "Quit knocking and kick it in."

"We don't have a warrant," one of the police officers outside pointed out.

Another kicked in the door. Maddie snatched a second ecto-pistol from her belt and pointed this one at the police.

"Guys don't!" Danny shouted.

Everyone ignored him. By his side Tucker whispered, "You are worth jail."

"Aim for their guns," Maddie commanded. "If they fire back jail is the last thing we have to worry about."

"Don't use ecto-shields," Danny shouted, hands and eyes glowing blue. "Their bullets blow right through those."

Icy armor covered his mom, his friends and sister. If they were going to risk their lives for him, Danny would cut that risk. The ecto-ice would sap their body heat but against ectoranium bullets they had more than hypothermia to worry about.

GIW agents opened fire.

Intangibility was no protection against ectoranium, though Danny phased on instinct. One bullet from the barriage sliced right through his thigh, a burning tongue of fire through muscle and intangible bone in its wake. Encasing himself in ice, Danny turned tangible again. His thigh had no hole, nothing to show he had been shot but every move of his leg sent a flashback of the shot as though every nerve the bullet passed through had been seared.

Dozens of agents invaded Fentonworks and each and every one of them shot ectoranium weapons. Police flooded the area, but their bullets could be blocked by ectoplasm and most of them weren't aiming guns so Danny focused on the GIW. Conjuring a shield to go with his armor, Danny leapt in the middle of the agents, icing guns over.

Gunfights were an ironic rarity for the superhero. Most criminals did one of two things: Amity natives surrendered to the most powerful and elusive ghost they'd seen, non-Amity criminals freaked when they realized ghosts were real. The GIW weren't just a few criminals though, they were dozens upon dozens of people and the noise of every single one of those people firing guns—coupled with a few of the police who fired—was deafening enough to bring him to his knees.

With a burst of ectoplasm, agents and officers alike reeled back, blinded. Some of the more experienced even stopped shooting.

"Earplugs Danny!" Sam bellowed at the top of her lungs.

He barely heard her, but used ice to engulf his ears. The result was oddly cold but his ghost core would keep him from freezing. The noise stopped being an overwhelming, head-splitting force and he rose again, bullets smacking into his armor and occasionally pinging off, undaunted.

"Leave my family alone!" Danny bellowed but didn't dare release his ghostly wail. At such close quarters, against the fully human agents, it would kill.

"Then surrender!" One of the cops shouted. "You are to be taken into government—"

"Never!" Tucker, standing in icy armor like an action-hero, unloaded a pair of ecto-pistols against every attacker holding a gun.

Unfortunately two pistols against fifty will lose.

Bullets smashed into his armor. Cracks spiderwebbed through protective ice. Chips and shards of ice fell away as bullet after bullet bit through the defense that kept Tucker alive. Each bullet sledge-hammered his body but even on his knees, Tucker kept firing. He couldn't let up for even a second during the frenzied battle as he edged toward cover. Not until the gun clicked dry.

Tucker dove behind the ice shield. Those who stare at their non-shooting weapon in confusion do not go on to become veteran ghost hunters…or much of anything else. But the battle didn't pause to let him re-load and a burly GIW agent with an ecto-grenade launcher didn't wait for him to leap out from cover again.

The first shot tore apart the ice wall Tucker ducked behind at such impossible volume that windows shattered and Sam, the closest, actually jerked back from the sheer force. Fragments of ice tore through the ranks of GIW, cops and team Phantom alike. The second shot slammed straight into the teenage boy, folding him in half and launching him into the living room wall right beside the television.

Tucker fell.

No one could spare him more than a glance. Danny's trembling heart was only slightly slowed by the lack of blood pooling around Tucker…but something could still be broken. Diving for cover—if he could just duplicate, he could check on Tucker and fight at the same time—but nearly a dozen agents converged on him as another heart-jolting blast from the ectoplasmic launcher destroyed his ice shield. Desperately he duplicated anyway but as fast as the duplicate was, bullets shredded it half-way to Tucker.

Partly-formed ice armor dropped to the floor hollowly.

Jazz's aim had not improved much with time so she shot at the largest groups before closing in on the disorganized agents, combining martial arts and verbal assault against them. Several fell dazed, unconscious or clutching broken limbs. The remaining GIW had responded by loosening their groups and keeping their distance, firing until an ecto-net from one of the police tangled her.

Jazz was trapped.

Danny, as powerful and experienced as he was, held back to avoid killing while GIW agents in armor. No ghostly wail tore his throat; no blizzard from the heart of Antarctica froze them to death. These people were human and Danny had reason to flee rather than fight ghost hunters.

The agents were under no such constraints. One fist hit his leg, right over the bullet wound-burn and his world went lightning-white. Gasping in agony, he fought through the branding iron pain lodged in his leg. When he flew up in the air, these agents went with him.

Powered suits, capable of giving a human flight, invisibility and intangibility, were nothing compared to the man who used those ghost powers like he breathed. Going invisible himself, Danny turned intangible to grip one intangible agent and fling him into another, determined to show these agents what ghost powers really were.

But quantity has a quality all of its own. The heaviest ectoplasmic weapons shattered his armor, deafeningly loud through his earplugs. More ectoranium weapons, like the one that downed Tucker smashed through his armor, shredded it. Ectoranium bullets shot at him as he conjured another icy shield.

Maddie, exceptional martial artist as she was, had not trained to fight in such heavy armor and the weight sapped her strength too quickly. Her limbs burned as she forced them to rise, block, strike and too many agents charged her at once. She went down beneath the weight of exhaustion compounded with three GIW agents. One screamed and shot back up, wrist broken, colliding with a partner. Twisting, she lunged for the third agent with her teeth. He jerked away as though she was a cobra and she twisted free of them, panting hard.

Two cops tackled her, one snapping a cuff shut. Maddie grabbed his arm and forced it to the ground, sending his face into the linoleum. Grabbing the free cuff, she smashed it into the face of another GIW agent like brass knuckles. More rough hands wrenched her arms behind her back, snapping her wrists together with metal. Lashing out with a knee, she broke the ribs of the nearest assailant.

"Not my son!"

Five agents risked her kicks to bring her down. Another crumpled, screaming in pain from a foot to the groin. A second lightning-fast kick smashed the face of another. A third nearly ran into her knee but the other two finally managed to bring her to the floor. Several cops followed them, holding her immobile.

Maddie was down.

"My lawyers are going to have a field day with this!" Sam bellowed.

Danny's attention snapped toward her voice.

Sam's icy armor was riddled with cracks from ecto-bullets, at least fifty of the things caught like flies in amber. Damn if he hadn't covered her with armor she would have been a corpse. Three Agents had to restrain her, one grabbing each leg and another wrenching her arms behind her back but she wasn't fighting them. She wasn't fighting anyone because someone had torn away her helmet, probably the same GIW agent who now held a pistol against her head.

"Surrender ghost or I kill her." Agent L ordered nasally. His nose crushed.

"That is illegal," Maddie hissed as she was bound in a cocoon of restraints. "You don't even have the right to arrest Danny!"

A truly evil smirk crossed the agent's face, all the eviler for its slightness. Out of the corner of his eye Danny noticed even Agent K leaning away from this man. As though on cue, the television—which had miraculously survived the battle in working condition—switched to a news report.

Agent C stood surrounded by microphones. "Due to overwhelming public backlash against the deceptions of the half ghost known as Vlad Plasmius, aka, Vlad Masters,"—Didn't Agent C sound positively giddy saying that to a sea of reporters—"As well as the alleged assistance provided by one Danny Phantom," Danny gritted his teeth at the sly phrase, "During his escape from official custody, the United States Government, in cooperation with the GIW, has formed the 'halfa initiative'."

"The 'Halfa Initiative' is made specifically with both the humanity and the ghostliness of these unique individuals taken into consideration. Instead of performing immoral and invasive experiments, the halfa initiative will give Mr. Fenton and Mr. Masters room, board and wages in return for their rescue work and crime-fighting activity. They will literally be fighting for truth, justice and the American way."

Danny turned away from the applause issuing from the television, sickened. Tucker still hadn't moved, not even a twitch. He was lying so limp and still that the superhero automatically floated toward him, heart squeezed in the inescapable gravity of a black hole.

"No moving ghost!" Agent L snarled. With his finger curled around the trigger he pressed the gun harder into her skull like he wanted to kill her. Danny froze like he'd been shot dead.

At L's nod, Agent K walked towards Jazz but kept his weapon lowered.

"Keep her hostage."

Agent K didn't so much as twitch, "Sir she's human. GIW codes—"

"I know what the codes say." Behind his sunglasses those eyes burned.

"Then you know to breach them would be a breach of my contract with the GIW and holding an unpossessed human hostage would grant legal grounds to fire me," Agent K said.

"Bring down the ghost then," Agent L ordered.

Harsh hands yanked him down and Danny offered no resistance as he was forced from the air. His sister seemed to be as okay as could be, cuffed and half-tangled in the net like a ghost. His mom was barely visible beneath everyone holding her down. When Chief Bordon gripped the cuffs and pulled her to her feet, the agents were quick to back away.

But Tucker…losing dad had been hard enough. Was his friend…dead…too? He didn't think he could take another hole in his soul. Not again. And Sam, so close to the bullet that would end her life with one twitchy finger.

Agent C, the real one rather than the replay on the TV, stepped into the remains of Fentonworks with an inscrutable look on his face.

"Truth? Justice? The American way?" Danny whispered harshly. "This is a tyrant's way. This is lies turning black to white. This is..." he looked again at Tucker, hoping for a twitch, for a sharp breath, for some sign… "murder."

"You should be pleased," Agent C said calmly. "You can keep doing your rescue and crime-fighting work. Consider it this way: you'll be getting a job much nicer than you ever would with your grades."

"What about my family? My friends?" Danny asked.

"Jail for assault on federal agents." Agent K said dispassionately.

"Should be worse for these…traitors to all humanity, siding with ghosts over your fellow living people!" Agent P added.

"Now, now be calm. It's all on how you spin it," Agent C said. "True they could call a maximum-security cell a home for a very long time, perhaps the rest of their lives. Or…if you should cooperate Danny, we could overlook an enthusiastic defense of a family member, half-ghost or no."

"Get the collar." Agent L growled. "Force that filthy ghost to the floor. We don't need his cooperation."

Agent C gave Agent L a disapproving glance.

"Wow, this isn't creepy at all," Danny's mouth deadpanned as meaty hands shoved his cheek against the carpet, his chest flat on the floor. His eyes darted between Sam and Tucker, his heart fluttering like a bird's.

This was really happening.

"How is passing off slavery as a superhero job truth? Or forcing someone to kill people for you justice?" Jazz snarled.

"This is hardly slavery—" Agent C protested.

"I get my very own slave collar." Danny was trying for snark but the words came out in steel-melting acid.

"You're asking him to become a pet nuclear bomb!" Maddie shouted. "To murder thousands, maybe even millions of people and destroy whole cities!"

Blood red eyes gleaming with insanity filled his mind's eye. A wide, sadistic, fanged grin filled with the determination to utterly destroy all he'd once protected forced a tremor through him. Love turned into ultimate hate.

"Only against America's enemies: terrorists, drug dealers, illegal immigration perhaps and other ghosts. Consider it expansion on his current duties."

That's how it would begin, Danny thought. This person deserved to die, that person deserved to die, this blood deserved to be on his hands. But soldiers didn't get to choose who they killed and sooner or later…

Danny looked down the barrels of dozens of ecto-guns, one still pressed to Sam's head. If he tried to escape, Agent L would probably gleefully kill her now. An impossible choice. Danny shut his eyes.

Mere kidnapping he could handle. Torture he'd braced himself for. Even being disappeared by the government…well, he'd resigned himself to that fate nearly a year ago. But worse than even his parents hating him, turning on him, dissecting him, was this certainty. His worst enemy come to life. His very worst nightmare made reality. And the GIW were bringing it to life in a way even more horrible than his evil future self ever could.

"Inevitable," he could almost hear that deep voice, nearly identical to his own now, whisper.

"No." Danny whispered softly, opening his eyes again, zeroing in on Sam. She had been staring at him all this time and when their eyes met she mouthed words slowly, over and over until the shape of her lips made sense. Until he heard the words without sound.

"I'm not worth it."

As Agent K approached with the slave collar, metallic and green, very like a modified spectre deflector, Danny closed his eyes again, letting his neck go limp.

She was.

"Arrest the others!" Agent L ordered.

"Yes sir."

"You can't just arrest people!" Chief Bordon protested. "The GIW has authority over ghosts only!"

"No but _you_ can arrest them for assaulting federal agents and you are currently under my jurisdiction," Agent L said. When she didn't move, he added, "Do so, now!"

"You don't sign my paychecks and no way in hell are you my boss," Chief Bordon snarled.

"You take orders from me now for the duration of this mission. Arrest them or I will _start_ by having you fired."

"Psycho," one of the officers muttered, but one by one, Danny watched the officers he'd worked with, that his friends and family had worked with, approach with cuffs. One by one metal clasped their wrists, holding them in place. Even Tucker, so deathly still, was cuffed dispassionately.

The click of handcuffs—ecto-cuffs in Danny's case—sounded with terrible finality. A white suit enveloped his vision, hiding Tucker, Sam, mom and Jazz from him as the man knelt before him. Agent K grabbed a handful of his hair and wrenched his head up to bare his throat.

"You know this is wrong?" Danny tried to reason with him. "Why are you doing this? Your own son—"

"Don't you dare talk to me about my son! He is dead. I…" his hand trembled slightly, "…I shot his ghost," Agent K whispered harshly; his hand tightened. "After _that_ …you are nothing." Cold metal pressed against his throat as the man worked the collar around Danny's throat one-handed. He was being collared like a dog. Like a slave.

Buildings broke like the masters mansion before his ghostly wail and his icy power as the collar commanded him. No, he didn't want this. Didn't want to be the destroyer. Didn't want to fly into that dark abyss that he'd been in immediately after his father's death. Only this would be far worse than venting his wrath on an empty building…because there would be life-blood spilt. Himself an Ultimate Enemy once more. No, no he had promised!

"I don't want to live like this," he declared, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The collar closed around his throat with one last click.

Agent K said, "Target 1 detained in association with four humans."

 **A/N:** Originally this was going to be the last chapter and it was going to be a tearful, sappy goodbye. Then I killed Jack and thought…no, this is where the Fenton family and Team Phantom breaks so let them be broken!

Agent K is pretty much who Jack Fenton could have been if he'd been slightly less open-minded and things had played out in a slightly different manner. Unwilling and unable to change his entire world-view even for his son, Agent K does what he thinks is right and best for the both of them. Now he's stuck with that world-view because if he admits he was wrong, he admits he murdered his own son.

So hope you enjoyed this! One more chapter to go!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Hope you enjoy the last chapter; this was the hardest because I essentially re-wrote the whole thing. Still I think this version is so much better than the first one and its thanks to you guys! Hope you enjoy this last chapter and glad you enjoyed the story. Thanks for all the support!

 **Forgone**

Rough hands kept Danny pressed to cold linoleum, the slave collar bit into his neck as he watched from a mouse-eye view. Agent L, still looming over Sam, relaxed the gun slightly. "Very good Agent K. Pity we can't fulfill your last request ghost, however the GIW is not authorized to destroy halfas. Otherwise I would grant your request." Thin lips curved slightly.

Agent C shook his head, "Easy son. This won't be any hell to escape from with a bullet. We even have houses built for yourself and Mr. Masters." Danny stiffened and even from the floor gave him a 'how is that not hell' look. Agent C paused, as though belatedly remembering Vlad had murdered Danny's father. "Of course you don't have to be neighbors." Speaking to the agents pinning him to the ground he said: "Now do let him up and Agent L get that gun off that girl's head unless you want to be sued within an inch of your life."

"You don't command me Agent C," Agent L warned.

"No," Agent C grumbled. Then, more softly he added. "I merely clean up the messes." In a louder voice he continued, "Chief Bordon can continue due process of the law regarding the rest of the Fenton family…do include multiple assaults of GIW agents in their charges. And someone call an ambulance for our agents."

"What about Tucker?" Sam and Danny asked at once.

Agent C considered the unmoving boy, "Call another van…discreetly…to take him to the morgue."

Those careless words phased through his chest and gripped Danny's core like Vlad's clawed hand before ripping it out, tearing away all his strength with it. He could not have gone bloodless faster if his throat was slit. Agony turned inward on itself in the space that used to be Danny's heart until only a leaden lump of failure was left. If someone put a gun against his head he wouldn't have even flinched.

Agent C, completely unaware of Danny's wounded soul, continued, "—do not draw attention to this…at least the media doesn't tend to care about his kind and for heaven's sakes Agent L put that gun down. The media will care if you shoot Samantha Manson."

"Guess how many fucks I give about the media."

"A good deal more if you lose your job!"

With the skimpiest concession, Agent L drew his trigger finger away and curled it onto the hilt of the gun.

Suddenly cold frosted Danny's throat, bringing life back into his eyes. A ghost? Here? That couldn't be. He searched through the agents again for a flash of green, a subtle glow or ghostly light bleeding out from beneath their sunglasses.

There! The agent behind Agent L and one other agent, far to the back. He looked familiar. The suit was off but the face…Another agent moved and again Danny got a glimpse of a hairless head that looked wrong. There should be a beard on that wide chin, hair on either side of that narrow, sharp face…it couldn't be.

Bald was a foreign look. That white suit, something he never would have normally worn and sunglasses concealed his eyes like a mask. But Danny had fought him too many times; he would never forget that face, hair or no hair, sunglasses or no sunglasses. Among the GIW was none other than Vlad Masters. Danny sucked in a breath, suddenly, desperately wanting to expose the other halfa. Nothing would distract the ghost hunters more than finding Vlad among their own. That shock would give his family the chance they needed. Sam's elbows twitched and if she wasn't trying to pick a lock Danny would eat his boots.

He opened his mouth. Vlad's attention locked onto him. Though concealed by sunglasses their eyes met and Danny knew the other halfa knew. Within the stolen GIW uniform the man froze. Served him right, Danny thought. Vlad had to know the GIW's plans and could have warned his mother even if he was unwilling to warn his enemy.

His mom, his sister, Sam, Tucker, they were captured or…or dead because of this. Because they chose to fight for him. The least he could do was get them out.

Danny opened his mouth, rage bubbling in his throat, ready to damn his father's murderer.

Then he let his anger out. No more making decisions in anger. Maybe Vlad deserved to be exposed but no one deserved slavery. Danny glanced at his mom, craning her head toward chief Bordon; his sister, trapped in a net like a ghost; Sam, the muzzle of a pistol still against her temple; Tucker, who was…

He had to save them. Sometimes as a hero there weren't any good choices, just ones labeled 'bad,' 'worse,' 'shitty,' and 'suicide.' But he had to! Vlad would escape! He was powerful and calculating and would never take a risk he wasn't prepared to deal with or turn to his advantage. He would survive and escape. If all the GIW agents suddenly turned on Vlad—he had no ecto-ice to stop their bullets.

But his family! His friends!

Danny couldn't speak.

Vlad could be enslaved, becoming the ultimate enemy in Danny's place. No. He would rescue the other halfa afterwards. Yes, after freeing his friends and family. And if he didn't, or if he failed any government would use any halfa like a super-soldier. Blood would be on their hands.

And it would be Danny's fault.

A small voice in the back of his mind cried out against it but Danny closed his mouth and hit his head with the floor. It wasn't right, damn it. Exposing Vlad wasn't right, not to the GIW, no matter how he might justify it in his mind. Besides, the GIW would just use Vlad to get to him…or his family!

In a single glance, something passed between Maddie and Sam. Not a nod gave any warning for another sudden click, jerking Danny's attention away from Vlad. Cuffs hit the floor. Maddie crouched like a lioness ready for the kill, Chief Bordon's gun clutched in both hands, aimed straight at Agent L. The GIW leader barely had time to turn.

The pistol let out a sharp, high pow at the same time as the bullet hit Agent L. From that angle the shot flew through L's mouth and blew out the back of his head, killing him instantly. His trigger finger twitched spasmodically, nerves firing after the brain stopped working…but the gun didn't go off. The pistol slipped away from Sam and fell to the ground, still clutched in the agent's deathly grip.

GIW agents pounced on Maddie, aiming guns at her, gripping the gun, her wrists, ankles, legs. Re-capturing her. Sam moved faster, snatching L's gun off the floor as her limp, empty cuffs hit the floor. More agents turned toward her.

"Halt!" she ordered, gun in hand.

They obeyed. No one wanted to be hit by a bullet that would kill a human as easily as a ghost. None of them dared fight against the massive pistol Agent L had so loved. But Sam did not aim at any white suit rushing or fleeing her. She aimed straight for Danny.

Maddie shifted their weight, slamming agents to the ground with every ounce of her one hundred and thirty one pounds. Flesh slapped against flesh and against floor. Harsh breaths punched the oppressive silence between two best friends as one leveled a gun at the other.

Danny trusted Sam with everything, his life and his death. He stayed perfectly still as an ice sculpture, hoping Sam would not miss. A memory rose of what Clockwork had shown him, his father from another future, begging for the bullet in his place. Danny voiced those words now:

"I already forgive you."

Arms firm as oaken branches, feet rooted to the floor, back tree-trunk straight in a perfect shooter's position, Sam squeezed the trigger.

The sound was too hard, too loud, too sharp, and too high to be described by letters the human tongue could pronounce. Within the confining room, with earplugs gone, the blast was all-encompassing. GIW agents, police, Fentons and even Sam herself flinched as one being from the noise.

She did not miss.

Ectoplasm stained the cold floor bright green. Agents released him, leaping away as the superhero went slack. Danny collapsed in glowing, ghostly blood, white hair tainted jade as liquid spread.

Danny was free.

With foreboding clicks agents aimed at Sam but she ignored their commands and shouts, crossing the distance between herself and Agent K in two swift bounds. Bullets smashed into her armor and one grazed the back of her head and pierced her ear as it passed. Then she stood next to Danny, pressing Agent L's pistol to Agent K's head.

"Freeze," she bellowed to the GIW agents. "Or your newest leader dies."

"Sam."

The collar gave Danny one sharp jolt in punishment before dying, the last of its ectoplasmic power drained. It fell away, lock broken from the precise bullet Sam had shot. With his power no longer restrained Danny froze the chains binding him and tore through them.

The GIW agents twitched toward him but stopped as Sam pressed the gun closer to their new leader's head.

"We can't play nice," Sam hissed at Danny. "Or I can't afford to obviously. I'm human. The worst they can do is throw me in jail."

No, Danny thought, the worst they can do is kill you. But he couldn't ignore this chance. Without another word he duplicated, sending three to help Jazz and his mom cuff the agents…starting with Agent K. He, the original, was by Tucker's side so fast he thought he'd gained teleportation.

Blood specked the floor and a small puddle of it oozed from cracks in ice. His armor, or what was left of it, kept Tucker's lifeblood against his body, soaking his shirt. His whole torso and back covered in dark red. Danny carefully froze the worst bleeding before placing two trembling fingers on his friend's throat.

Tucker's pulse was as lifeless as the rest of him. Danny stayed as still as his friend, fingers on his throat, waiting, hope squeezing his heart like a constricting snake…there! A single throb, slow and hesitant as a nervous swallow, rolled beneath his fingers. "He's still alive," Danny sobbed.

Activating his invisibility power, Danny turned skin and muscle transparent, leaving him with a better view of what happened than any x-ray machine could. His gag reflex and stomach had grown used to the horror and gruesomeness of bodily insides not meant to be seen outside. His eyes hadn't.

Tucker's spine was broken. Icy armor had kept him alive but the sheer force exploding from a gun even Jack would have struggled with had broken bone and severed nerves. Shards of bone stuck like needles of torture into flesh and nerves alike. Two vertebrae gaped outward like a mouth. His own spine cringed in sympathy. But Tucker was alive, he could be saved. That was important. With more ice Danny immobilized the break, then the rest of his body so that no more damage could be done while he carried his friend to a nightmare.

If the hospital would save Tucker, Danny would take him to hell.

His remaining three duplicates merged back together before he rose in the air with Tucker. No one stopped him. The GIW were cuffed. Cops looked awkwardly toward Chief Bordon, who found something absolutely fascinating with the patterns of destruction in Fentonworks.

"Danny," Maddie called. "Some of the GIW agents have already called for backup. After you take Tucker to the hospital…don't come back."

"Mom—," his voice cracked like it hadn't done in years.

"Go," Jazz added.

"Take me with you," Sam added.

A distinct, high-pitched Owoah-owoah grew louder.

"Go."

Danny wanted to hug them all, one last time. But Tucker was bleeding out in his arms, Sam held tight around his shoulders and the GIW were pulling on their street now. That would have to do.

"Goodbye."

He left without a backwards glance, phasing instinctively through a roof that wasn't there. Once high enough to be nearly invisible Danny duplicated again, one duplicate cradling Tucker, the other linking an arm around Sam's waist as she did the same for him.

"Danny, I'm gonna need you to drop me off at the law office."

"Yeah."

Fentonworks vanished behind the taller buildings downtown.

"Everyone's going to be alright, I'll make sure of it."

Danny wished he could believe that, but not with Tucker in his other's arms, not with his shattered home behind him. Not with his mother's last words echoing in his head.

"Just in case…" Danny paused. "Please, if you guys need a bail-out let me know. I'm half tempted to do that now."

Sam shook her head. "The GIW don't have a really bad case against Jazz and I—we could charge them for assaulting us just as much as they could charge us for the same…and Tucker..." she shook with repressed fury. "If they charge him for anything there won't be a GIW."

"Mom though…"

"I've got an army of lawyers," Sam said, "Besides, I think Chief Bordon is on our side. I saw her help Maddie get loose."

"If the GIW choose to press…"

"They can press as hard as they like. We will still win Danny. We're still team Phantom. Besides Agent L was their leader and he was the crazy one. Agent C will back down."

"Agent K is in charge now. He killed the ghost of his son Sam. He's messed up," Danny warned.

"Point." For a moment they were silent, but Sam spoke up again, "Did you really think I would kill you?"

"We talked about…just in case. Heh, you said yourself death was better than slavery." Danny looked at her seriously. "Didn't you mean that?"

"You're not a slave now. I freed you." Sam neatly avoided the question.

"Yes, but if they get me…"

"Then you make sure they don't get you. Please! For my sake, for your mom's sake, for everyone's sake, don't get caught."

"…Sam if the worst happens," Danny's voice grew rougher. "I'll want you to. I'll want you to kill me."

Sam looked away, toward the roofs below. "Here's the law offices." As soon as her feet were on the ground she whispered, "Get invisible. Get out of here. I'll…if there's no other way…I'll do it but don't you dare take any risks. Don't you dare make me do it."

"The other me is dropping Tucker off. Check on him. Make sure…"

"I'll take care of him. We'll be fine. Now go."

* * *

The sight of Phantom appearing suddenly in the middle of a hospital, a stiff, bloody body in his arms, hardly fazed the veterans of Amity Park. A gurney was practically conjured out of thin air and swept Tucker away, staff working together as though they shared one mind.

"Invisible him Phantom," one doctor ordered. Once more transparency peeled away the layers of Tucker's flesh, exposing the grotesque, unnatural split of vertebrae. One disk hung by a few thin filaments of flesh.

"Report," another ordered.

Danny's mouth worked on autopilot, spilling the whole story, his brain unable to think past his best friend lying like a corpse—was this what his friends felt when he had died in the portal? "It-it hit him in the abdomen. He was shielded by ecto-ice armor."

"Probably saved his life," One doctor soothed.

"He's afraid of hospitals," Danny suddenly blurted, report done. "He hates them. Please—" He didn't know what he was supposed to say: please don't act like doctors and nurses? Please turn this healthy hell into a home? Several heads nodded as they passed into one of several operation rooms and Danny was left to wait outside. As always. That stupid accident couldn't have given him the ability to heal others.

What now? His mom told him not to come back and if he did he would only get his family into deeper trouble by returning. No home to go to. No emergency called him, no more lives to be saved—except the one he had risked.

No, Tucker had chosen this and he was old enough and wise enough to make that choice. Still the needle of guilt didn't leave.

"Danny Phantom!" Someone called hoarsely.

At the shout most people put down the magazines they half-heartedly flipped through or turned away from the TVs re-playing Agent C's message. Danny's hearing finally stopped having technical difficulties. "—Halfa Initiative. Finally the GIW sees some sense and works with you instead of against you and they'll even pay you to take out the bastards. Not of course that they could ever pay you enough for your services," the man added.

"Exactly." Paulina stepped up, beaming as much as the obviously flu-wracked girl could. "About time," she sneezed and blushed…or maybe that was a touch of fever on her cheeks. "Should have paid you all along." She collapsed on one of the waiting chairs.

Danny glanced from Paulina to the television. Not a word was spoken, not a picture was shown of what had happened to his home. All these people in the waiting room were living in another world somehow; a world where Fentonworks was still standing and Tucker was still healthy and the GIW hadn't forced a slave-collar around his throat. Agent C hadn't shut up on the television, "—a new era of cooperation between humans and halfas and a new era for America."

An older woman who looked like Paulina's mother spoke up. "It's about time too, I'm sorry to say but most of these ghosts are bad eggs. Best do away with them all." She flushed slightly when she looked at him. "And some living are not much better. I've always been grateful for you taking these hooligans off the streets but we need a permanent solution."

"Hardly people at all," someone else remarked.

Danny glanced down. His hands were still stained with blood. Tucker's blood. "I don't want to kill," he managed.

"I know and that's good," Paulina's mother said, "But some people need killing, just like a tree needs pruning—some branches get rotten and you have to cut them off."

"But—" _he'd_ been the rotten branch. Walker had framed him, true, but he'd still terrified people. In the early days people had called him Invisobill with the vitriol reserved for terrorists and a single teenage boy had struck fear in the entire town. "I—" was a terrorist. What came out of his mouth was, "Fought terrorists before." Adam Byron, a boy his age had risen from his corpse, mind permanently locked in obsession, unable to change; his powers had locked on guns, giving him a terrifying amount of control over any weapon. "Killing a terrorist just makes more terrorists."

"Not if they're all dead. Come now you just want to be a hero," one of the people said. Danny flinched at those words. Adam's words. Shooter, they'd called him. But Danny saw only another sixteen year old, sparse hair around his jaw and lips like weeds in a desert, eyes shining as he spoke about heroism.

"I think I might have finally figured out what these powers are for," Adam had said.

Ice had gripped his spine looking in the mirror after The Accident. Wondering what freaked his friends so badly, Danny had seen the horror his parents had studied. The one he'd been reassured by his friends and sister didn't exist. The terror he'd repeatedly told himself was only a myth. The evil that lurked in death: A ghost.

Adam's words had not touched his spine, they chilled his soul.

"Killing isn't right," he'd said. The same words he'd told to Adam. Most of the people were giving him the same looks the other boy had.

"Of course it isn't right," one of the crowd said. She turned aside and coughed, "But sometimes young man, its necessary."

"And Vlad will finally be doing an honest day's work!" Paulina's father pointed out. "Look at everything he's done. They should have thrown him in jail to rot or even a lab," Danny flinched, "but this is better, letting him work off his debt to society by helping society."

Yes, thought Danny, that would be better if only the lie Agent C painted was the truth. "I don't think it's going to work out that way," he croaked.

"I'll call the GIW and let them know you're here," the first man offered.

"No!" His voice was firm. Final.

"Why not?" The man's voice suddenly turned suspicious, "You're not running away are you."

The woman added, "So many of our young men are willing to sacrifice their lives for our country, why not you?"

"I am," he said. "I just don't want to kill—for anyone."

"Hello, GIW, I'm here to report Phantom—"

Danny didn't stick around to argue his point. He had lost that argument before opening his mouth. Instead he phased through the walls, back to Tucker. His best friend who was nearly invisible beneath all the surgeons. Drifting away from them he asked a nearby nurse.

"Is he—"

"They don't know yet, now please let us do our jobs."

Danny left before he could be caught. He didn't want Sam to have to kill him. Worse, he didn't want anyone to lose family. Especially not by his hand.

* * *

"According to our intelligence the portal is genetically locked," Agent Y reported with a salute.

Inwardly Vlad cursed Jack Fenton once more for inventing such a thing. Only a Fenton could open the portal; with Jazz whereabouts unknown, dear Maddie taken to jail and Daniel fled there wasn't one to be found. Beyond that locked door stood freedom. A world the GIW would never be able to find him in. The infinite realms, where he could travel to the other side of the earth within minutes.

"Agent M, get me a sample of DNA."

Vlad straightened, snapped off a salute and turned away without another word, or even a first word. If they recognized his voice—unlikely but possible—he would suffer a fate worse than death. He was a rat among the cats that sharpened its teeth and puffed up its fur enough that no one questioned him.

Metaphorically speaking.

So far the lack of hair, glasses and suit helped him blend in well enough. Even the Fentons had passed him over. For a heart-stopping moment Daniel had stared hard at him during the raid, but apparently Vlad's disguise had fooled him. Otherwise surely Daniel would have ratted him out.

Picking his way through the mess of the house, over a fallen chunk of Ops center, he found the discarded net. Yes…a few strands of Jasmine's hair. Hopefully that would be enough because the nauseating blend of red and green splattering the floor made identifying blood impossible.

Delivering the hair, Vlad snapped off another salute and hoped within his heart and core alike this would work.

"Very good, now," Agent K pressed red strands against the DNA reader. Vlad approached the portal, not making any attempt to be sneaky. Among many white suits he could hide but any sly movements would draw the attention of the only other two agents. Better to play the new, curious recruit.

"Step away from there," another agent warned as the portal opened.

Vlad barely heard the words over the heavenly groan of portal locks opening. Had he been brought forth to the pearly gates gaping before him, he could not have possibly been more grateful. The sight of that swirling green vortex was freedom to a slave who had not tasted it in a dozen years; life to a man drowning in the abyss; water to a desperate soul crawling in the desert. Not even his precious Packers memorabilia so gladdened his heart.

Life and freedom, the two things most desired by any being beyond a portal for the dead. Vlad could no more turn away from its siren call than a puppet.

"Stop!"

Rushing toward the portal, Vlad let his black rings snap over him and flight spur him forward.

"Shit! Plasmius!"

Two agents pointed their guns at him. Bullets fired. But Vlad was faster. He dove through the portal and into the deathly abyss. The very last thing he heard was explosions.

* * *

Fentonworks lay in pieces. Danny hovered invisibly over a wasteland that used to be his home. What hadn't been destroyed by the GIW's initial assault had been torn apart with a vengeance. The ops center was blown apart into scrap metal from the initial invasion. The roof below ripped apart, giving him a perfect view of the gutted house. The entire upper story was open to the elements.

The chair they'd never been able to bring themselves to get rid of was shattered. His dad's half-formed plans were ashes now. The kitchen was completely gone and below that his parents' beloved lab was little more than a crater. To the side a van was being loaded up before peeling away, rocking as it ran over the bricks to one of the walls. His parents' inventions; the GIW were pilfering them like rats in a garbage dump.

Danny's eyes flashed green and he floated toward the house intending to steal them back before mentally slapping himself upside the head. No. He had come back, which was bad enough. Being re-captured for material objects—Sam would gladly kill him for that.

"I guess this is goodbye guys," Danny said sadly. His family wasn't around to listen, but some things needed to be spoken. "I w—would give so much for a future 'stuck' as Danny Phantom: town hero. Working with you mom, staying in Amity Park while everyone else moved on. Living at home."

Below his feet GIW agents rooted through what was left of his room. One wall had collapsed, spraying his desk and computer with brick, mortar and drywall. Two agents were—oh that was creepy—flipping over his mattress and peeling off the sheets. What did they need those for? Another was confiscating his telescope, the one his mom had given him for his thirteenth birthday.

"What a future ahead of me," he muttered sardonically.

Living homeless, as a vagabond, traveling from place to place just to survive and keep himself from being enslaved. With the GIW's 'halfa initiative' he couldn't work another job. With ghost detectors everywhere and his identity revealed he'd never be able to blend in with humanity again.

"I hope Amity doesn't need a hero."

"Forgetting someone?"

Danny actually shot up and whipped around like a startled cat, hands instinctively glowing green and blue to see Valerie smirking behind him, standing easily on her hover-board. "With more humans after you than ghosts you need to pay attention."

"Right, yeah," Danny's core calmed down. "Usually I am but hey, they usually aren't half as sneaky as you."

"Not all ghost hunters advertise their presence with sirens," Valerie warned.

"Good thing I've got you on my side then," Danny said, a ghost of a smile on his face. That smile died. He looked down. "You'll…protect them, right?"

Valerie scoffed, "You aren't the only hero ghost." A real smile crossed his face. "Don't have college to go to, so yeah. Dad and I are still getting our feet under us." At his guilty look she snorted, "Look I've forgiven you for that accident. Besides Vlad was the one who got my dad fired and our home confiscated. We've got a decent used mobile home pretty cheap, only sixteen-fifty K but that doesn't exactly leave a lot of money left for college."

"Oh." Danny cleared his throat. "So…got any plans?"

"Gotta admit I'm thinking more of expanding the whole ghost-hunting thing. Going public. The GIW aren't the ghost hunters we need." She nodded at the remains of Fentonworks. "The world needs ghost hunters who know and understand ghosts. Who can work with ghosts and humans."

Danny swallowed, "You'd be good with that."

"Thanks."

"It's nice to know that Amity is in good hands," Danny added. "I guess this is good—"

"Look out!"

Once more Danny turned intangible, dodging on instinct with Valerie. A bullet shot right beside them.

"—bye."

Danny did not wait, didn't need Valerie's urgent words. Fentonworks' corpse vanished below in a blur. The sirens and gunfire of the GIW died as miles stretched. Casper High approached, lingered less than a second before winking out like a star against the dawn. "Heh, guess I won't graduate Lancer. Just like I thought. Goodbye."

These days Danny Phantom could fly better than two hundred miles per hour at his best. That night he pressed himself further and faster than ever, breaking speed records. In a trice he had left Amity Park behind. The ghosts would continue bothering Amity but the city could survive without him: it had Red Huntress. Better than having him as the sort of monster the GIW or any government would turn him into.

* * *

Far away and below Tucker woke to blinding lights and eerie white, the stench of disinfectant so strong in his nose for so long he couldn't smell anything at all. The ultimate anti-Sam room: Hell.

The hospital.

Only his legs, his lower body, were free of the pain but his upper body makes up for it: sledge-hammer bruises all over his body, some doubling or tripling up in particularly painful places. Every breath is hot-coals and broken-ribs painful. But his back dwarfed that agony with a sensation so fierce his brain had transformed pain into a different feeling entirely to avoid tearing itself apart. It felt, weirdly enough, like his back was trying to give birth out his butt and something's head couldn't quite pass through. Which was worse than going insane from agony.

Surgeons loomed over him like devils.

He had to work for every word spoken like the newest version of DOOMED on an outdated hard-drive. "Where's Danny," Tucker managed to gasp.

"Left. Guess he had another emergency."

Tucker relaxed. His best friend was still free. "You are worth hell," he whispered.

Unfortunately he did not do the heroic thing and pass out after declaring undying loyalty but before the doctors could finish up. He lay _awake_.

* * *

"Do you understand these rights I have just read to you?" Chief Bordon asked.

Maddie nodded as she was led to her cell. Sam would be talking with the lawyers. No need to give any more ammunition. Not that they didn't have plenty of evidence to throw her in jail. She'd killed Agent L right in front of dozens of police officers. Pleading innocent wasn't an option.

But she couldn't bring herself to regret it. Maybe that one bullet would tear apart her family but her son was safe—they would have said something, Bordon would have said something, all the televisions would have said something if he'd been captured. Her daughter was safe and free; Maddie would rake herself over with hot coals before she would say a word against Jazz.

That would have to do.

"I understand perfectly."

* * *

"Honestly your best bet for freeing Maddie is to convince the Jury and everyone else that she was being overshadowed by Phantom," Imani said.

"No way," Sam put her foot down. Her parents squirmed awkwardly.

Raising her hands in surrender, Imani Cheatham shook her head, "You could argue another ghost was there but Phantom is the most believable one to overshadow her. That would grant Maddie reasonable doubt and that is the _only_ thing that will keep her out of jail."

"I'm not throwing my best friend into the fire!" Sam protested.

"Sammykins she's not saying you should but the GIW already threw Danny into the volcano," Jeremy pointed out.

"What if she pleads guilty to a sort of self-defense?" Jazz asked. "Agent L had a gun pressed against Sam's head. Mom saved her!"

"Those bastards are not going to get away with trying to murder our Sammykins!" Pamela bellowed.

"So you've told me, but unless you can get a lot of independent witnesses to back up your claim—the GIW will get behind their own. If they all deny that psychopath was doing anything, who else can testify?"

"Would the cops? There's no lost love between them and the GIW," Jazz said.

"Are you sure they will? Worst case scenario says they won't or, if they were forced to work for the GIW, they can't. The GIW could easily hold out for a manslaughter guilty plea. Besides, even if she did kill him to save you Miss Manson, she still killed." To Sam's parents she added, "And Agent L can't be charged with anything anymore, considering…"

"Isn't there a loophole you could exploit?" Sam demanded.

"Tons of them for that kind of murky situation, but only if you have some evidence to counter the opposition's overwhelming witnesses. Honestly the only reason I'm willing to help you in this is because those white bastards stabbed me in the back. One way or another this will be my last case and I want to win! I will do anything to win!"

"How can we win?" asked Valerie.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"To help in any way I can," Valerie said.

"Like you said," Jazz spoke to Sam, "We can't afford to be nice. If we lose mom could spend the rest of her life in jail."

* * *

Danny wanted to fly back with duplicates all in icy armor, ignore the collar-burn fresh on his skin and break them all out but…

" _Don't come back."_

" _Don't you dare make me do it."_

" _Go."_

He vanished the icy armor he'd unintentionally conjured and turned away again. "Be safe guys."

He didn't have anything more to say to empty air. Hitching his backpack higher, its contents the only things he owned in the world, he flew still further and faster until he hovered above the remote waters of Lake Michigan. Without so much as a light bulb of civilization for miles even Danny's glowing eyes could only see darkness. Water and sky had no division beneath the new moon so the sight of any light at all caught his attention.

Glowing green claws tore through the reality of life and allowed a glimpse into the swirling world of death. A massive lupine head, jet black with eyes the color of death, joined the claws. Fangs bared in a gruesome smile.

"Amiko!"

That was the sweetest word he'd heard in a while. "Hey Wulf," Danny managed with a soft smile.

They flew away from the world of the living and into the depths of the ghost zone.

 **A/N** : When I wrote Heroic Build I struggled with the decision to have Danny flee the GIW or give himself up because it was the right thing to do. The heroic fugitive plotline was tempting and the one I really wanted to do. But fleeing from justice before giving the justice system a chance seemed to be out of character for Danny without a really good reason and I didn't have one in mind. So I finished Heroic Build with a trial.

But I really wanted to do the plotline where he has to flee everything, so I had to figure out something horrible enough that Danny would flee the GIW and the law. Hence the 'Halfa initiative'. It would make sense for…well any government to want their own super soldiers and Danny and Vlad would make incredible super-soldiers. Choosing between breaking the law and fleeing or becoming a Person of Mass Destruction and killing people—even horrible people—is not that hard a choice for Danny.


End file.
